


The Tides Know Our Names

by findango (infinitys_smile)



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Action, Alcohol, Angst, Danger, Drama, F/M, Fight Scenes, Hurt/Comfort, Intrigue, Romance, Slow Burn, Violence, alcohol mention, alcohol use, because it's me and I'm a sucker for that kind of thing, hopefully the character arc is on fleek, i don't wanna trigger anyone but it's just a vision and not actually real, intrigue and danger, prescience, remind me not to use the word fleek, slight elements of, strap in for the long run kiddos the slow is real with this burn, two characters go on an adventure and who knows maybe feelings happen, vision of major character death, you know; the good stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitys_smile/pseuds/findango
Summary: After losing the throne to his brother Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward. A few months after this Elara, part of an ancient order of prescient Atlanteans known as Tidewatchers, has a vision of Orm's death.Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly haven’t written fic in years but here I am. This is just the introduction of sorts to set up where I’m placing this story after the movie. Also to help me shake off the cobwebs and jump right in.

> Full summary: In the wake of King Orm's defeat at the hands of Arthur, the new king of Atlantis thought it might be best to leave his brother in confinement until things calmed down. While Orm had been doing what he thought was best, and others like Nereus had agreed with him, he had still won the hatred of several of the tribes in the process for his actions prior to his dethroning. Even so, Arthur was the first to admit he was inexperienced in the many duties of being king and all of the accompanying politics that come with it. That being the case, he wasn’t foolish enough to not realize that Orm, experienced as he is at ruling Atlantis, would be an invaluable asset. 
> 
> Orm, was far from the only help in this department. Mera, of course, was his most trusted adviser in how to play the dance of kingdoms and his mother was happy to give him whatever help he asked for. It was also true though that his mother had effectively been out of the game for the last twenty some years and he believed she deserved to have a happy life with his father. Orm may have come close to bringing all of Atlantis to war with itself and then against the surface world, but before that, he’d lived and breathed the prosperity of Atlantis and knew the inner workings better than anyone. Most of the people especially of his own city still think he had the right idea. And compared with the iron rule of his father before him, Orm was a just and good king. 
> 
> So, true to his word, Arthur had a chat with Orm when things had stabilized a bit. To say things went smoothly at first between them might be overly optimistic but at least they weren’t actively at each other’s throats. Orm had his resentments, sure, but Atlanna had helped bridge the gap between them. She realized she couldn’t fix all the hurt her absence had done to her sons but she helped show how much she loved them and that, despite his father’s toxic influence, Orm was a good man and she was proud of him. Eventually, the two could talk easier and Orm, perhaps grudgingly at first is willing to offer advice.
> 
> As time went on, Orm’s confinement lessened, he was allowed around the palace under supervision from Arthur or Atlanna or Vulko. He may have wanted his throne back but he realized that he’d lost, and on some level didn’t want to disappoint his mother. Unfortunately, other parties were less content with his small freedoms.

_ - _

Elara started each morning in a state of deep meditation. She’d found it easier to begin her study of the waves while still mostly asleep. That way she was too tired for any preconceived notions to muddle things up and get in the way of clear sight. 

The way of the Tidewatchers was an art, a gift, a blessing and real tricky pain in the butt and as such, it required due focus. Elara liked to allow the proper time each day to really hone in on what the ocean would tell her so she usually started each day with an initial search through the tides and then returned throughout the day to really parse through what patterns she uncovered amidst her other duties as a Tidewatcher.

This morning was not usual in the slightest. As soon as her hands grazed the surface of the pool she used for scrying, an almost electric shock ran up her whole body, raising her hair on end. This was no mere image, but a vision and it was clear, clearer than anything she’d ever seen.

King Orm was being escorted down a hall in the royal palace by Vulko and two other guards then suddenly there was a commotion at the other end of the hall. She couldn’t see who it was but could feel their anger radiating back through the tides to her.

A blast, Vulko was thrown free, the guards disoriented and scattered, and then a blade sharpened with hatred pierced Orm’s heart. The vision was fading, and Elara tried to grasp onto the slivers of it before they receded. The glimpses flashed and faded barely fast enough to absorb: Arthur bursting in with a roar, Orm not breathing, someone was yelling and then beautiful ocean blue eyes going dim. 

She pulled her hands from the pool as if she’d been scorched. But she could still hear the yelling when with a start, she realized the shouts were hers. Her throat burned as a shaking settled over her whole being.

In all of her years of watching, Elara had never seen anything that clear, that vivid. She had always been better at broader patterns, at interpreting hints into a bigger picture. She’d never felt anything like that. There was no misinterpreting this- Orm was going to die and she knew she was meant to stop it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay that’s it for now! again, this is just a sort of teaser. My way of testing the waters. I had this idea for the Tidewatchers and I just had to run with it. I have some interesting ideas on how I can run with this premise in future chapters. I’ll likely be posting anyway but if you like what you see, please leave a comment/kudos!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect to get this chapter out this quickly but it's lovely and I'm grateful. Also, thank you so much to those who gave me kudos and especially to those who commented! I was not expecting any! it was a lovely surprise! hope you enjoy this chapter even more. Definitely got to get more into the meat of it with this one as I'm trying to set things up. Hope y'all enjoy!

_ In all of her years of watching, Elara had never seen anything that clear, that vivid. She had always been better at broader patterns, at interpreting hints into a bigger picture. She’d never felt anything like that. There was no misinterpreting this- Orm was going to die and she knew she was meant to stop it. _

-

While Elara’s first instinct was to swim straight to the palace and demand an audience with the king, she was quick to calm herself of that panicky foolishness. She’d spent years training in her gift and had learned better than to immediately fly off the handles and cause a panic. This vision had certainly been more immediate and clearer than most, but experience had taught her that all portents could be misinterpreted and required due care.

Instead, she sought the advice of the older Tidewatchers whose guidance had yet to lead her astray. Elara was no young guppy in either age or the ways of tidewatching but the council had been at this for decades more than she had, passing down the knowledge and patterns of countless generations. Something in Elara screamed at the delay the consultation would cause but it was the right call, a cautious call, perhaps, but the right one.

The elders, duly concerned at such a pattern sat with Elara through another Watching but all they got for their trouble was a clearer image of the blade as it stabbed Prince Orm. Elara just had to hope that would be enough. Despite their scrying and searching, they were unable to find any insight into the assailant or when the attack would occur. After a brief but vigorous deliberation of all possible angles and meanings of the vision, the elders sent a message to Vulko, alerting them of the vision and it’s royal importance. Without going into too many details, the elders secured an audience with the King for Elara and she was at last on her way.

Elara did her best to steady her breathing and nerves as she traveled from the Tidewatcher temple to the palace at the heart of Atlantis. It's not that she was nervous per say, she knew all too well that this had to be done as this was part of the sacred duty all Tidewatchers had upheld for centuries before Elara was born. It was how the current flowed, the Tidewatchers would watch and inform the king or anyone else necessary if the tide dictated it.

It was just that Elara couldn’t exactly say that she was excited that her first official meeting with her new king would boil down to telling him someone was going to kill his brother. And on top of that, she couldn’t even tell him who the attacker was or when this assault would happen. The how was crystal clear, but that was hardly the most helpful. 

If this was any other situation Elara would have spent days studying the tides, trying to interpret more or connect surrounding patterns but given the vibrancy of her vision, the elders had ruled it was likely to be sooner rather than later. Elara sighed knowing even that could be wrong.There was a reason why she’d always considered the art of Tidewatching to be the art of weaving sense out of running water. Being completely sure of things had never been the Tidewatcher way.

So there she was, heading to a royal appointment with a vague vision of doom. Despite her reservations about all of this, she held herself confidently, careful not to let her worry show as she entered the palace.

Throughout her training and duties as a Tidewatcher, Elara had been to the palace on many occasions but never for a vision so dire or on her own. She had presented patterns before royalty before but her last encounter did little to bolster her confidence on how a king might receive her portent.

Upon entering the main reception hall she was greeted by a footman who proceeded to escort her through the various hallways to the appropriate audience chamber. Almost out of habit, Elara found herself scanning the tides of the areas she swam through. It was perhaps optimistic that, out of all the many passages in the palace, that these would be the ones to trigger a follow up vision. But despite her efforts none of the passages lit up in a bioluminescent sign that said “THE PRINCE DIES IN THIS ONE”.

Before Elara had a chance to chide herself for such a foolish notion, she was being shown into a small audience chamber with the King of Atlantis and his much presumed future Queen. The footman bowed deeply to the party before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Elara bowed  to each of them and while Mera gave a graceful nod in reply, a muscle twitched in Arthur's face that signified his discomfort with the gesture. Elara straightened without commenting but instead filed the motion away for future study.

“My King-” she began but he cut her off.

“Since it’s just us, can we just stick with Arthur?” he asked with none of the assurance the previous king she’d met with had displayed.

Mera sighed in a resigned sort of way but Arthur ignored her and continued, “Please, sit down.”

“Alright, Arthur, my name is Elara,“ she said though the informality seemed alien to her in a royal setting. She sat down across from their sofa on one of her own; this was certainly not how her last encounter with royalty had gone but she didn’t mind. 

“Yes…” he began, as if searching for a word, “You’re one of the Tide Pods, right?”

It took so much effort on Elara’s part not to snort at her new king as Mera gently corrected him, “Of the Tidewatchers, Arthur.”

Arthur took it in stride and just barrelled on. “And you guys can see the future, right?”

Elara gave a small, cryptic smile, “Simplistically yes, but technically no.”

Mera looked like she might step in and explain things but Arthur fixed the tidewatcher with an interested and quizzical expression. “How would you explain it then?”

“We see patterns and interpret them,” Elara answered, which was, of course, the perfunctory, textbook answer but also nearly useless for a practical understanding. She knew he needed more than that. 

One of the most important lessons she’d ever learned about her calling was that before anyone could really get into the meat of answering that question, she had to lay down the basics first. “We have spent hundreds of years watching the tides of time and studying the flow of events. When Atlantis sank beneath the sea, all of it’s surviving citizens were devastated. But my people sought to keep such a cataclysm from happening again. The ocean heard our yearning and it spoke to us and, in thanks, we listened and we learned to read the signs. Perhaps most importantly, we discovered that things are seldom clear cut or simple. Most of the time it is like reading an ancient text and trying to figure out the translation that makes best sense within the context we are given. More often than not we watch the smaller actions and use those to see the larger ones.”

He looked truly interested in this explanation, he may not understand it but she thought it counted for a lot that he was at least engaged in trying. The same could certainly not be said of all kings.

He paused, taking a beat to really absorb before asking, “Okay… but Vulko said something about you having a vision.”

She smiled, a glint in her light brown eyes. He was a quick one, and one she had more than a feeling would make a great king.

“He was right,” she said, “I only said we have to interpret signs  _ most _ of the time. Sometimes the ocean speaks up. It still doesn’t always speak clearly but sometimes it really wants to make sure someone gets the message.”

He smirked like he found her phrasing amusing but he was willing to follow the metaphor, “And what did the ocean say to you?”

He had done such a good job at getting her in the flow of the conversation that for a minute she had forgotten what she was there for. She paused, trying to figure out how best to phrase it, but, before she could find the right words, there was a commotion outside the door.

And then there, entering the room, was King Orm- Prince Orm- she quickly corrected herself, yet there was still something so very kingly about his countenance that was hard to look away from. Vulko entered behind him and Elara noted at least two escorts behind them but when Vulko shut the door they remained outside.

“I apologize for our tardiness, my king. We came as swift as we could.” Vulko said as he and Orm walked to the other receiving couch across from Elara. Vulko gave Mera and Arthur a deep bow, but Orm the one given was smaller with a very measured amount of deference. Elara could sense it was hard for him but he did his best not to show it.

If Arthur was perturbed by their being late, not an ounce of it showed in his countenance. “It’s alright, glad you made it.”

Even as he sat down, Prince Orm was an imposing presence to be in the same room with. That’s not to say that Arthur wasn’t, but while the current King was built like a mountain and wielded the power to move the ocean, he had something of a less closed off air to him. Arthur was arguably the more approachable of the two, but that was perhaps just the setting. There were no doubts that in battle or on the throne Arthur could scare even the bravest warriors witless. He was just more at ease with such a small group. While Orm did not look like he was marching into battle, he did not look quite at ease. He was far more guarded.

Elara, meanwhile, was caught off guard. Trying to compensate for her surprised delay, she quickly stood and bowed. Orm paused for a fraction of a second, as he studied her. Something battled in his face for the briefest glimmer and it was only through her skills as a Tidewatcher that Elara could almost recognize a trace of both surprise, regret, and gratitude. Then the flash was gone and his composure of steel returned.

“Your grace,” Elara said rapidly but with the appropriate level of respect for someone who was once her king.

He gave a small nod in acknowledgement, “Elara.”

All of the nerves she’d had before entering the palace had returned in spades. This was not what she had been expecting at all. A sit down with the king to share her grisly vision was one thing but to come face to face with the subject of those ill tidings was not something she’d appropriately prepared for. Working to regain her composure she finally said, “Forgive me, my prince, I had not expected you.”

“Our apologies, Elara,” Mera interjected, “Your message to Vulko said that you needed to speak to us and Prince Orm.”

It took all of her might not to cringe at that. She’d meant  _ about  _ Orm, not  _ with _ Orm. She knew she should have sent the message herself but given the urgency of the matter and the need for deliberation, she’d trusted her Tidewatcher sister A’bree to see it through. And for that delegation, apparently a word was misplaced or misinterpreted and now here she was and Orm was too apparently. Now that he was here, she could see no way but forward.

It was always said that the Prince was shrewd and he proved true to his reputation in sensing her hesitancy, as he stood. “My presence is not needed I take it.”

He was being tactful, and trying to not take offence but Elara could see how it goaded at him; to be excluded from something of importance: to be summoned and then dismissed with little thought. And she had to admit that it would rile her too.

So without allowing any chance to second guess herself, she spoke out as he started back to the door.

“No- stay;” He stilled instantly and there was half a beat of utter silence before she remembered her court manners and hurriedly added, “my prince. You should hear this too.”

She knew this was not going to be easy for anyone but she could see little point or tact in excluding him simply to make things easier on herself- there were more important things at stake.

Arthur exchanged a look and a raised eyebrow with Mera as Orm carefully sat back down beside Vulko. Elara, however, returned to sit at the edge of her seat, back perfectly straight as she prepared herself for what must be said.

She almost expected Arthur to pick up their conversation where they’d left off, but he had a deeper gravity to him than he’d had a moment before and seemed unsure what perhaps a king might do next.

Orm had no such hesitations. He could sense something something weighty was afoot. He’d picked up on it the moment he’d entered the room and was ready to meet it. “What did you see, Elara?”

She took a breath and met his eyes, his haunting ocean eyes, then said plainly, “Your death, my Prince.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely looking forward to exploring this story more as we get more into the plotty bits but I've had so much fun figuring out how the Tidewatcher stuff works. also it should be stated that Orm was originally not going to appear this chapter but then I said "it's my fic, I can introduce him when I want" so here we go. If you are interested or wanna see where we go, please leave a comment and kudos! Support really means a lot to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're still going strong. Goodness, haven't written a chapter a day since 2012. Thank you to my subscribers and those who left kudos! it really helps to know that others are in this journey with me. Now, with no more ado, let us away!

_ “What did you see, Elara?” _

_ She took a breath and met his eyes, his haunting ocean eyes, then said plainly , “Your death, my Prince.” _

 

-

Elara could have heard a strand of seaweed sway in the silence that followed. No one moved and all eyes were fixed squarely on her. She took a breath to steel herself, willing strength she didn’t feel as she braced for the first question.

“How does it happen?” Arthur asks.

Elara’s eyes had been locked on Orm but he looked away, which surprised her. She’d never thought him to be the type to flinch at discomfort, but suddenly he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but her king was not to be ignored.

“I saw an attack here, at the palace. I couldn’t see the attacker but they overpowered Vulko and his guards before finally stabbing the prince.” The memory was still so close and fresh, it would have been easy to let the emotion cloud her memory but she did her best to strip it away and leave only the facts.

She gave them a brief but comprehensive rundown of what she’d seen. Trying to relay anything pertinent while painfully aware of the limitations of her sight. The gravity in the room was palpable as they took it in.

“Could you tell if there was more than one assailant?” Vulko asked breaking the silence.

She closed her eyes in an effort to call up more details could but then opened them again and shook her head, “No. I’m sorry, it’s just not focused enough.”

She shot a brief glance to Orm but he said nothing, wouldn’t even look at Elara. Instead, he was looking down, his face in deep contemplation. The whirring of the gears in his mind was practically visible.

Arthur leaned forward, “okay, so explain to me again how this works with your visions. Is it like the attacker was blocked from view or something?”

The nature of Watching was widely varied but Elara knew that there had to be a way to help Arthur understand this. Then a most unique idea came to mind.

“You know how on the surface, action scenes in movies are filmed from a wide variety of camera angles?” She asked.

Surprise and recognition lit in his eyes, Orm, Mera and Vulko looked to her in confusion. Even though it was the first time Orm had looked at her since the revelation, she was strict in focussing solely on Arthur as he nodded.

“So you’ve got the wide shot, the close up of each of the actors and then various shots of any particular action of the fight. Well with visions, when they do come, it’s more like single camera home videos. There’s only one angle and sometimes the cropping is bad or it’s fuzzy, but that’s the shot you get.”

“And all you got this time was a close up,” he said with satisfaction which the tidewatcher met with a smile. It was normally much harder to explain these things to non-watchers.

“And in this case,” he continued, piecing it all together, “it was focused squarely on Orm.”

Elara felt a sudden shiver down her spine at the way he said it. It was certainly true but it felt different when he put it that way. She had to double her efforts to keep from looking at the prince as she kept her eyes on Arthur and nodded.

Arthur cracked a grin, “how the hell do you even know about movies and camera angles?”

“I’ve spent my fair share of time on the surface,” She answered with a grin at memories of movie theaters and popcorn.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?” he asks, seeming to try to prompt her into expanding on that statement.

“A few,” was all she replied because now was not the time, there were more pressing matters that required their attention. “Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to use any of those to hone more useful information from my vision.”

“Did you see the blade?” Orm suddenly asked, surprising her. It was the first time he’d spoken since hearing the vision and though Elara finally looked back to him she found him to be utterly unreadable. Though he met her gaze, he was far enough removed that it was impossible even for her with all of her skill at reading people to tell how he’d taken it. Somehow, be it his focus or the seriousness with which he’d listened, she could tell he had believed her, which, considering the last time she’d presented a pattern to him, was more than she’d expected.

“Yes, I saw it,” she answered, mirroring him and keeping her emotions at arm’s length. 

“What did it look like?” Unreadable or not, he was a most intense presence with all of his attention was focused on her.

Elara swallowed but then steadied. This, at least she did know. “It was a short blade, more like a dagger or a knife. The handle almost looked like coral, it was crafted of gold with blue detailing.”

They all shared a look.

“What? You recognize it?”

Vulko sighed, and then pulled a knife from his belt, “You could say that.”

She immediately started, looking from the blade to Vulko and then to the others. No one else was alarmed, concerned yes, but no accusations flew, and no one was regarding Vulko any differently.

Vulko sensing her unease moved slowly as he made to hand the woman the blade. Very slowly, she took it verifying that it was just as she had seen. She fixed a bewildered stare upon the vizier once more.

“What you’re holding is the traditional blade of all Atlantean guards, soldiers, and council members.” Vulko said wearily.

Elara examined the details carefully taking in the fine cast of the blade, the small blue gem in the pommel, and found each aspect identical to the one she’d seen. As the realization of what this meant dawned on her, her countenance fell as she looked back to the group. 

“Well shit.” she whispered and then immediately winced at the slip. So much for courtly manners.

Arthur, however let out a short bark of laughter. “Yep, that sounds about right.”

She paused a beat then asked, feeling more frustrated by the minute, “What can we do?”

“Well, it’s safe to say that arresting and detaining everyone that carries that blade is out.” Mera said.

“Yes, unless you want us arresting ourselves, we’re going to need another plan.” Vulko stated drily. “And there are far too many of them throughout the kingdoms to narrow anything down,” 

Elara rubbed a hand against her temple, they were getting nowhere fast.

“I don’t suppose your home video had a timestamp on it?” Arthur asked.

“Nope,” she replied without opening her eyes

“Perhaps,” Mera began cautiously, “It might be prudent to try to figure out motives in order to identify the culprit.”

The tension levels skyrocketed in an instant. No, this would not be a happy discussion.

Either Vulko couldn’t feel the tension rolling off of Orm in that moment or he didn’t care because he was the first to speak, “It might be best to start with the tribes most affected by the siege.”

Orm said nothing but fixed Vulko with a hard stare.

“There have been complaints from representatives of both the Kingdom of Brine and the Fisherman tribe seeking compensation,” Mera said, though she didn’t have the same hardness as Vulko had. She said it almost hesitantly. She was trying to get to the bottom of this regardless of any awkwardness between them all. She certainly didn’t want Orm dead but some hard truths had to be faced.

Orm retained his silence though there was the slightest twitch in his neck when Mera had begun to speak. Elara could detect a measure of hurt in him, but it was only obvious to her because of her skill at tidewatching.

“But we’ve been working on that,” Arthur pointed out. “Isn’t that the point of all of these meetings over treaties we’ve been having? We are working on it.”

“Unfortunately,” Orm finally said, speaking slowly and carefully, “grievances like these are rarely solved through diplomacy alone.”

His words had weight behind them and some unreadable emotion Elara just couldn’t put her finger on. Though she had no claim to it, she wanted to know what was going through his head. How was he so calm about this vision? She didn’t know how she’d feel in his place but she admired the sheer control he displayed at not immediately taking charge in all this. He was doing his best to settle into his new role in the way of things while keeping his emotions about this incredibly personal prophecy perfectly in check. Elara had no idea how he did it, but supposed these were the things he might have learned from being king.

“No,” Vulko finally agreed, “They are not.”

Elara felt a flash of awkwardness. What was she still doing here? It wasn’t like she could offer much more help. All she could do was just rehash what tiny fragments she did have while the rest of them did the heavy lifting and deducing. 

Elara was skilled at deduction but she just didn’t have enough details about the situation. She didn’t know Orm, not really. She’d known him as her King and she’d thought him a good one. He’d done great things for Atlantis, but everything she knew and learned involving his march to war against the surface was muddled and second hand. Sure, she’d glimpsed things through Tidewatching but some of that she wasn’t even sure had really happened and wasn’t just a fragmented possibility. 

Times of great strife were the most difficult for Tidewatchers to untangle, especially with so many players involved. And it wasn’t like she could start quizzing the room about everything Orm had done that might have pissed someone off, any tiny action or slight that they might not even remember. There was just so much about all of this that Elara didn’t know- so much about Orm that felt unknowable. It was like they were two strands of a tapestry that would never entwine. All she could do in the meantime was search the tides for clues and enlightenment. 

But, before she could speak and begin to extricate herself from this important discussion, there was a chime at the door that seemed to start everyone out of a stupor. It had begun to feel like this room had detached from everything else and the chime brought them back with a jolt.

Arthur gave permission and one of his attendants entered. The attendant seemed almost to be in a perpetual half bow as he addressed his king, “Forgive me, your majesty, the representatives of the tribes have assembled in the north wing.”

Arthur stared back at him for a minute, then looked to Mera, “Did we have another meeting today?”

“The Trade council you’d suggested yesterday,” she reminded him smoothly.

Arthur squinted and then his eyes popped open  wider.

“Right!” he looked back to Mera, and then gestured to Elara and Orm. “Can we reschedule? This is important.”

Mera considered but advised, “It is, but it would be unwise to postpone the tribes. They are known to hold grudges.”

Arthur immediately sobered at that. Mera could see he understood and addressed the attendant, “Tell them we will be along shortly.”

The attendant bowed fully and then left. Elara could sense Orm’s utter distaste and discomfort for this whole situation, like he were a spectator of a game he used to coach.

“Sorry,” Arthur said, addressing the others. “We’re going to have to pick this up later.”

“We understand,” Elara said. “I should probably be leaving anyway.”

A frown crossed Arthur’s face at that but it was Vulko who spoke, “Actually I was thinking you might be willing to explore alternative ways of gleaning more information.”

She cocked her head. “What did you have in mind?”

“I once knew a Tidewatcher who would explore the areas pertinent to the pattern she was hoping to decipher. She said she was best able to coax more signs if she surrounded herself with what threads she knew.” he answered and Elara smiled.

“You knew Madren?” Elara asked in surprise. Madren was something of a grandmother to Elara in the tidewatcher family and one of her wisest teachers.

Vulko gave a small grin of remembrance, “I did. She was a very clever woman. I was hoping that either through proximity to Orm or surveying hallways like the one in your vision you might be able to see more.”

It was a good plan, and one she might have thought of, but Elara was hardly about to invite herself to tour the palace or become Orm’s shadow. And while neither was guaranteed to bear fruit, she wanted to help and this was better than just ruminating in the Tidewatcher temple.

She looked to Orm to see him regarding her warily, obviously as unsure of this plan as she was but he’d yet to scoff and refuse such an idea.

“It might help,” Elara agreed, not wanting to be too forceful.

“Great,” Arthur said, clapping his hands together as he stood. “You guys work on that and Mera and I will meet with the council and we’ll all reconvene this evening to see what we can figure out.”

Elara knew he must have many responsibilities but she liked that he was willing to put the time into this situation. It showed that, no matter how he might have met his brother or how tense things might be between them, he was still invested in keeping him alive and protecting Orm.

As the group rose, Elara realized she’d essentially just volunteered to spend the afternoon with Prince Orm. Definitely not where she thought she’d end up when she woke up this morning.

She looked to the prince, trying to figure out how she felt about this turn of events only to find he was looking back at her, seeming to do the same.

There were parting remarks as Arthur and Mera left the way Elara and the attendant had entered while Vulko led the tidewatcher and the prince out the other way. The guards fell into step behind them. And there she was, walking side by side with her former King. She resolved not to linger on that and instead began to focus on the task at hand.

“Where do you think we should start?” she asked, addressing Vulko.

“First,” he replied, “we should get Orm back to his quarters before we begin exploring possible sites for the vision.”

There was a slight tremor of resentment from Orm but it was a move that made sense. If they were trying to figure out where someone would try to kill him, it would hardly be prudent to take the intended target along. 

No one spoke as they walked through the myriad of beautiful but identical halls. Elara made sure to keep her senses alert for shifts in the tides and could feel Orm and Vulko tense as well, both men wary of possible attack.

Elara wished they would speak, anything to break the tension but she couldn’t think of anything to say either that would help anything so she kept quiet and focused on listening to the tides. They’d travelling perhaps five minutes when she felt a ripple. It was a small thing, and she might not have even picked it up if she hadn’t been on high alert. 

But, there on edge of her senses was a single taut thread. One sensation out of place in the swirl of ordinary palace life. She paused, trying to identify the meaning behind the sensation, the cause of errant thread. Orm noticed her hesitation and held out a hand to halt the guards behind them.

“What is it?” he asked and she squinted, deep in focus.

Hearing Orm’s question, Vulko stopped ahead of them.

Still feeling through the tides, she struggled to put into words what she’d sensed. It was such a small thing, like a single stone in a gravel road that was turned the wrong way.

“I-” Elara began but never got the chance to finish for suddenly the whole left side of the passage ahead exploded.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I’m evil. Don’t worry, I’m already well into the next chapter but if you want to make sure I’m motivated, please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! I honestly live for feedback and would appreciate any you could give me!  
> I also hope I'm doing a good enough job of explaining my idea of Tidewatching. Since it's such an integral part of the story, I want to try to make it as understandable as I can while not just info dumping left and right. The idea of the Tidewatchers was a big reason why I started writing this story so I hope you find it interesting!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Couldn't leave you on that cliffhanger for too long! Thank you so much to my new subscribers and commenters. I'm so happy to have you here!  
> It's not the longest chapter but it's got plenty of action. I also am finding that writing these smaller chapter makes it much easier for me to keep my flow. It's also easier to get through the writing and editing if it's in bite-sized chunks. Anywho, let's get back to it!

_ “What is it?” he asked and she squinted, deep in focus. _

_ Hearing Orm’s question, Vulko stopped ahead of them. _

_ Still feeling through the tides, she struggled to put into words what she’d sensed. It was such a small thing, like a single stone in a gravel road that was turned the wrong way. _

_ “I-” Elara began but never got the chance to finish for suddenly the whole left side of the passage ahead exploded. _

  
  


_ - _

If the party had been any further along in the passage, they all might have been caught in the explosive blast but instead they were just hit by the blast wave. Vulko was thrown into to the far wall, Elara, the next closest to the explosion was nearly tossed off her feet, instead she was knocked into something heavy to her right. At the impact, she looked up to see that said heavy object was the prince. Orm had an arm extended that had kept her on her feet. A little stunned, and not just by the blastwave, Elara wanted to thank him but there was no time for pleasantries as citizens of the Trench suddenly flooded the cavity the blast had created.

Vulko and the guards were quick to to rush at them but while they were armed, Orm was not. Elara crouched to pull a pair of knives from their sheaths in her boots, handing one to him wordlessly. He nodded in gratitude as he took it before the Trenchers reached them. 

Elara silently thanked the council of tidewatchers and especially Madren and Zult for all of their insistence and patience in teaching her the tides of battle. In a fray like this with such tight quarters and so many wild assailants, she needed every advantage she could get She would never boast to be a strong warrior like Orm or Arthur but learning the tides had taught her focus and perception which she’d spent years channelling into precision and skill. 

Zult, the most masterful Tidewatcher in the art of battle tides had told her that every action caused a ripple and every move in battle was like a pebble being skipped in a lake. If she could focus on the ripples, on the depth of each skip and the direction, she could learn to predict where the stone would sink and how many skips it would make. The same was true in any fight, if she listened to the tides, and focused on the movements of her enemies, she could see how they might strike next. It was a small edge and one that could be overcome by sheer brute strength or overwhelming odds but it was an edge Elara had been trained to wield deftly.

While the Trenchers were no skilled warriors, they made up for it in blind savagery and numbers. The guards had moved ahead of Orm and Elara in an effort of protection but they and Vulko were quickly overrun and three of the Trench people were advancing on the tidewatcher and the prince. A ripple and she saw the middle one stabbing a spear towards Orm. She quickly stepped forward, blocking their intended aim and wrenched the spear from the Trencher’s grip. A flash shower the one on the left making to pierce her in the stomach so she feinted right while swinging the spear around to knock the middle Trencher into the left one. 

Orm, meanwhile, had begun engaging with the remaining Trencher. If Elara was a fool she might have worried about him but he had been King of Atlantis and she knew he could handle himself against a single Trencher. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was not the same as the vision. It hadn’t been like this. She hadn’t seen an explosion and these Trenchers weren’t exactly wielding traditional Atlantean daggers. No, her vision had seemed more personal, more surgical. This was a blunt mess that Orm was certainly equal to facing.

The middle Trencher recovered quicker than than their fellow and made for her with claws and teeth. Grunting, she opted to stab them in the neck with her remaining knife. For the sake of speed, she left the knife in the Trencher for now and instead opted to fight with the spear. The remaining Trencher was recovering from its fall and made to lunge but she stabbed it swiftly with the spear. 

Meanwhile, Trenchers were still pouring in through the hole. Many were already dead or knocked out by Vulko and the guards. Orm had dispatched his first attacker and was now engaged with two more. A third was making its way towards Orm when Elara intervened. 

She leapt over a fallen combatant and swung her spear to meet them. They countered with their own spear. This one was more agile and ferocious, and perhaps more hungry judging by how it snapped its teeth. She gave it a bash in the head with the blunt end of the spear to knock them back then backed up to avoid their responding swing. Making quick slashes with the blade end she put them down. 

She then turned to check on Orm. He was facing away from her, bearing down on a particularly large Trencher two or three times the size of the ones she’d fought, when she sensed his other opponent about to launch itself and swipe at the small of Orm’s back.

She leapt forward between the two and hit the Trencher in face to knock them off their path. Briefly, she chanced a glance at Orm only to see him notice her as well. He nodded and each resumed their respective bouts. There was something almost empowering about the idea of fighting back to back with warrior as powerful as Orm. When more Trenchers surrounded the pair, she found strength in him having her back while she defended his. The next few moments were a blur of blows and dodges. Elara anticipating and deflecting, and Orm knocking his enemies down with ease. In the noise of snarls and and slashes, she could sometimes hear Orm grunt or shout but she worked very hard not to focus on that. Now was not the time to be distracted.

Then, nearly as suddenly as the battle had started, the remaining Trenchers suddenly flinched, shrieking and clutching at their heads with their webbed limbs, some began folding in on themselves while others made to retreat. Elara looked at Orm in confusion. They were both panting, his brow furrowed in concentration and his hair, usually slicked and composed was now ruffled and loose. Now was not the time, but Elara had to admit that it was a good look. They were both taut and alive with energy as they tried to identify what has caused the sudden retreat. 

Then a blast wave emanated from outside the hole in the wall, as Trenchers were suddenly slammed back in and against the wall and floor. Soldiers and guards swarmed in from either end of the hallway as Arthur, in his full armor and might swept in wielding the legendary trident of Atlan. The soldiers surged forward and began apprehending the cowering Trenchers.

Elara let out a deep breath, grateful for Arthur’s help and her training. Then she felt a ripple to her right and looked up to see Orm holding her knife out to her. It was spattered in gore and had clearly received plenty of use. Without any hesitation he wiped it quickly against the material of his pants before handing it back to her.

“Thank you,” he said as she took it from him. 

She didn’t know why but something about the depth of his voice and manner surprised her. There was a look in his eyes that was different to how he’d regarded her before. It was almost as though she’d surprised him and he was doing his best to reassess his opinion of her.

She nodded, sheathing the knife, “You’re welcome.”

He continued looking at her though and the full weight of his stare made Elara very jumpy, especially as couldn’t figure out what it meant. With the surge of adrenaline from the battle still thrumming in her veins, it was uncomfortable to just stand still. For lack of anything else to do, she just cleared her throat and went to retrieve the other knife from the Trencher’s neck. She’d just wiped it when Arthur swam his way to them from where he’d just been speaking with Vulko.

“You two alright?” He asked, looking them both up and down for injuries.

Orm and Elara looked at each other again, seeming to do the same. He still had that look in his eye- almost grateful and also surprised. It was hard even with her skills as a tidewatcher to place.

“We fared well enough,” Orm answered.

“No injuries here,” she replied though she knew she’d likely be very sore later.

“Good,” Arthur said, satisfied, “I think we better have another chat.”

She just nodded, too worn out for anything else but Orm was still looking at Elara when he responded to Arthur, “Indeed we should.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write fight scenes that often but that was a lot of fun to write. And Orm in action? hell yes, sign me up. He's just so attractive y'all.  
> Okay, you know the drill, I would love to hear what y'all think about how the stories going or heck, just gush at me about how hot Orm is. We're all in this together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping it real brief but I wanted to give a shoutout to Saber007 for some really helpful advice and feedback! thank you dear! Alright, let's get back to the story.

_ Arthur said, “I think we better have another chat.” _

_ She just nodded, too worn out for anything else but Orm was still looking at Elara when he responded to Arthur, “Indeed we should.” _

-

After Vulko, Orm, and Elara had all been looked at by the royal physicians and it was verified that they were as uninjured as they had claimed, they were installed in one of the royal council chambers. It was ruled to be a decidedly more fortified location being in the central tower of the palace complex then the far southern tower that had housed Orm in the recent months. There was an absolute plethora of guards and soldiers patrolling the halls and guarding the doors. 

When travelling from the infirmary to the council chamber, they’d been surrounded by reinforcements. It was the prudent move but one that felt ultimately unnecessary. The entire complex was on high alert, no one would be getting to Orm, not today at least.

While the group was checked out, Arthur had gone to see what he could get out of the Trenchers, but again, Elara wasn’t optimistic.

Orm, meanwhile, was restless- the tension positively vibrated off of him. Waiting around and hiding while other people actually got things done was not what he was born to do. It was like watching a caged animal prowling their enclosure: both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling all at once.

So while Vulko was receiving updates from the men outside in the hall, Elara sat and watched Orm pace. After a few minutes of this he abruptly stopped and turned to her, a question on the tip of his tongue. But, of course, that was the moment Arthur and Vulko entered.

She could see Orm bury whatever he was about to ask, instead turning to address Arthur instead, “Did you learn anything?”

Arthur shook his head, “Not yet but we’re going to keep at it, gotta let them sweat it out a bit.”

Orm was deeply unsatisfied with this but held back whatever retort was brewing beneath the surface.

Arthur motioned to the large table in the room saying, “Shall we?”

“Is Mera joining us?” Elara asked as the others took their seats. 

“Nah,” Arthur replied, “She’s still wrapping things up with the Trade Council. Luckily  they saw an attack on the palace as a good enough reason to excuse my presence.”

He seemed almost amused by this but Elara immediately saw Orm’s distaste at Arthur’s seeming disregard of matters of state. But Arthur was a new King still and had many things he had yet to learn.

“I guess this is a good news/bad news situation,” Arthur continued, sitting down.

“How’s that?” Orm asked, a deep storm cloud over him.

“Well, bad news is someone tried to kill you.” He said motioning to Orm before gesturing to where Elara sat across from him, “Good news is we averted Elara’s vision.”

“If that’s the case,”she began, speaking cautiously, “then I’m afraid it’s a bad news/bad news kind of day.”

“Why?” Orm asked cooly.

“Because that wasn’t my vision,” she answered.

“I mean, obviously,” Arthur replied, “Orm didn’t get stabbed but it was an attack in a palace hallway with Orm, Vulko, and two guards. Maybe it was just different because you were there?”

She shook her head, “No. I mean things can shift, but that’s not what happened. That is not the event that I saw. This was something different.”

“Isn’t it possible,” Orm said slowly as he locked her in his gaze, “that you were wrong?”

She wanted to throw her head back in frustration but restrained herself. They just didn’t get it. Were there similarities between what she’d seen and what just happened, yes? But they were distinct and separate events.

“Not about this. I know what I saw and I know that it’s still coming.” She said calmly.

It was like the vision was a boulder thrown into a pool, the waves and ripples were still resounding through the tides, the only change Elara saw was that now those ripples were interacting with those from this attack as well.

“Are you really so certain?” Orm challenged.

Elara stood her ground, looking him straight in his stark blue eyes, “Completely. I know what I felt and I trust in that feeling.

Orm held her gaze for a beat longer before looking down suddenly, almost as if he knew she could read his emotions in his eyes and he sought to shield them from her. The action caused a swell of confusion in her but she simply didn’t have the time to decipher what that meant.

“Well then,” Arthur said finally. “This is officially a mess.”

She sighed. That was the understatement of the year.

Arthur shook his head and turned to Vulko, “what are our options?”

“I think it would be best if we secure Prince Orm until we get to the bottom of this,” Vulko said.

“By secure you mean lock me away again,” Orm bit out. “What happened to all that grand talk about rehabilitation and bridging the gap between the reigns you all were so fond of when mother was here? Was that for her benefit or your guilty conscience?”

“If anyone has been trying to ease their burden of guilt, my prince, it is you.” Vulko replied coolly.

An ocean of anger and resentment rose in Orm, seeking to cut it off, Elara spoke up quickly. “No one is suggesting imprisoning anyone but things cannot remain as they are if we are to keep you safe.”

It was perhaps more personal than she’d meant to phrase it but she’d had to speak quickly to keep this discussion from devolving into name calling.

Orm slowly shifted his gaze from his former vizier to the tidewatcher, clearly loath to take his eyes off of the man who had betrayed him all those months ago. When he looked at Elara, there was still so much anger and frustration in him, it was as if the heat of battle had loosened some of the control he’d been so careful to keep over his emotions.

“What do you suggest then?” he asked, at least succeeding in quieting his rage to address her. 

She paused. She hadn’t expected anyone to ask her, but it was definitely a question that demanded an answer.

She took a deep breath before responding, “At the very least, we need to get you out of the city.”

Resentment radiated off of him at that.

“You think I should run and hide,” he said slowly, his words dipped in scorn.

“Better retreat and regroup than stay and be killed for the sake of your pride,” Elara fired back.

He positively prickled at that and perhaps it wasn’t the best way to respond to her former king but the matter was too serious to beat around the bush. Besides, someone had to talk some sense into him.

“She’s right,” Arthur agreed giving Elara a small surge of pride at that. “You’re too visible here- too recognizable. You ruffled a lot of fish scales, and until we can get to the bottom of the attacks, we may just need to let things cool down.”

“So it’s to be exile then,” Orm said bitterly.

“Orm, we are trying to save your life. Stop complaining and let us help you.” Arthur shot out with more temper than Elara had seen him display yet.

It did the trick though and Orm kept whatever bitter retort he had to himself.

Arthur turned back to Vulko, “Where can he go?”

Vulko seemed to shift uncomfortably before saying carefully, “I fear, my king, that not many of the tribes would harbor him at this point.”

Arthur considered that before saying, “What about Xebel? Weren’t King Nereus and Orm allies?”

Vulko paused, “Yes, but it is possible that that might be too obvious an option.”

Behind that careful phrasing, Elara could sense that was not the only reason why Vulko was against that suggestion. The threads of the tides seemed to indicate that Vulko feared what might happen if Orm was entrusted to a former ally. While Nereus had sworn fealty to the new king, it wasn’t ridiculous to assume that the two might yet conspire to dethrone Arthur. Elara just wished the tides would tell her if Vulko was right to be worried. 

All this was easy enough to see in Vulko’s posture and how he always studied Orm, it was as if he was always on his guard against possible reprisals. Arthur, however, trusted his mother and seemed to want to believe that Orm might come around.

Arthur spoke again, “What about the Hidden Sea? Mother was able to remain undetected there for years. The Kerathen would be one hell of a guard dog against future attacks.”

Elara and Vulko exchanged a look before she spoke, “This is true but, if I remember correctly, the only way to get to it is to pass through the Trench. And given the warm greeting we just got from some of its residents, I don’t think we could count on them to grant him safe passage.”

Arthur acknowledged this grimly with a nod and the room lapsed once more into silence. No matter what ripples she searched, Elara couldn’t think of a place in any of the kingdoms where Orm might be safe in the long term.

Arthur suddenly straightened causing the others to look at him.

“I think I’ve got it, it’s away from our suspects and it has the benefit of being the last place anyone would expect to look for Orm,” he said and Elara felt a shift in the tides, the glimmer of his idea materializing before her. 

No, that couldn’t be right. The tides had to be wrong, Arthur couldn’t possibly be crazy enough to suggest that. 

Orm seemed to grow uneasy at Arthur’s expression, “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“You are definitely going to hate it, little bro.” Arthur said as he burst into a shit-eating grin and all doubts were erased. “Congratulations, you just won a trip to the surface.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh heh. This is gonna be great. I have to say that writing angry Orm is really fun. I loved playing with him losing a bit of his temper. Got a bit more meat in this chapter and I hope you all like it. As always, comments and kudos are life and I appreciate any you can give me! see you next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I would like to give a special shout out to LeseLille for all of your kind comments! They were such a delightful surprise to wake up to. Thank you so much for your wonderful responses. Alright, let's get back to it!

_ Orm seemed to grow uneasy at Arthur’s expression, “I’m not going to like this, am I?” _

_ “You are definitely going to hate it, little bro.” Arthur said as he burst into a shit-eating grin and all doubts were erased. “Congratulations, you just won a trip to the surface.” _

-

To say that Orm was not enthused about this plan was like saying that the ocean was wet.

“You honestly expect me to hide out on the surface with everything that’s going on?” Orm seethed.

“Yes I do,” Arthur said gravely, just about fed up by his younger brother’s obstinance. “What else would you have us do? Unless you hadn’t noticed, you’ve pissed off a lot of people down here. You killed the Fisherman king for christ’s sake. That’s not something they or anyone else are going to get over in a hurry. And if you want any chance of sticking around and making things up to people, you’re going to have to trust us. Please, give us a chance to figure things out.”

Orm was silenced with that. It was certainly not an easy thing for him to hear but Arthur was right to say it. If he was going to survive this to help fix things one day, he was just going to have to deal with this. Sacrifices must be made for the sake of his people after all. Because whether or not any of the other tribes even believed in him anymore, he still believed in them and wanted to do what was best. And if Arthur was to evolve into a king skilled enough to rule them he would need Orm’s help and he’d be no help if he was dead.

“Alright,” Orm finally agreed. “We’ll try it your way, brother.”

There was almost a trace of affection there but if nothing else it showed you that he was trying make things right. Elara let out a breath. Given how tense things had gotten the last two times the brothers had fought, she was grateful they seemed to be trying out diplomacy.

Vulko was not as easily appeased as the Tidewatcher was and still had a suspicious look in his eyes, almost as if he couldn’t fully believe Orm was acquiescing this easily. Elara knew the truth though: nothing about this was easy for Orm. Each effort at civility and deference in such a charged situation required grueling effort on his part.

“How would we do it though?” She couldn’t help but ask before clarifying. “I’m not saying it’s a bad plan. It’s actually pretty clever but how would it work logistically? Would you drop him off at your parents’ lighthouse or what?”

Both brothers had a very visible reaction but while Arthur’s was more disapproving, Orm’s managed to have equal strokes of pain and distaste. He clearly had no desire to play audience to his mother’s happily ever after with her surface dweller. Especially considering it was their romance that had ultimately taken her from Orm, leaving him to grow up under the sole care of his violent and tempestuous father. He may be willing to submit to a stay on the surface he hated but he was not desperate enough to agree to that.

“No,” Arthur said, “I don’t want to put this on them. Besides, if it's crossed our minds, anyone else after Orm would think of that too.”

Elara couldn’t help but reflect on the fact that, over the past few hours she’d spent a lot of time with the three men contemplating this problem in silence. It also seemed that they hadn’t gotten very far in tackling it from any angle.

“Well what do you think?” she asked. “Are we supposed to just pop him on the surface by himself?”

None of them looked even remotely interested in that idea.

“Certainly not,” Vulko responded,.“We can’t just send the prince to the surface by himself.”

“What then?” she asked, seeming to track where his thought had trailed, “You can’t exactly send a whole squadron with him. I thought we were trying this to be inconspicuous. If you send any number of armored soldiers, you might as well be broadcasting his location. Besides, someone would notice if a battalion went missing at the same time the prince disappeared.”

“You’re right,” Arthur agreed, an almost mischievous look in his eye, “but they probably wouldn’t notice if it was a single Tidewatcher.”

Elara was struck utterly speechless, her mouth hanging open. Then, trying to make sure she hadn’t just hallucinated, asked. “You want to send me?”

Orm was similarly surprised but he had yet to say anything, as if waiting to hear exactly what Arthur intended.

“Why not? You’ve already saved his life once,” Arthur pointed out.

“I did not-” she spluttered. 

“I would hardly say that,” Orm said at the same time.

Arthur held his hands up to quiet further objections on that score, “Say what you want but I think it’s the natural choice. It was Elara’s death vision that got us started on all this and she would be the ideal option for protection up there. And she’d be with you to warn you if she saw any more attacks.”

Vulko spoke next, “It makes a certain kind of sense but would she be enough to fight off any real threat? It’s not like she’s a trained warrior.”

“Warrior? No.” Arthur agreed, “but she is trained. You saw her back there, from what the guards told me, she’s more than skilled enough to not only hold her own but watch Orm’s back.”

Elara knew she ought to have been flattered at that but was still stuck at flabbergasted over his completely unorthodox plan. 

Orm, strangely enough, did not dispute her skills. Instead he spoke to Arthur, “You can hardly plan to send just the two of us up to the surface without any kind of reinforcement.”

“Her tide watching is reinforcement,” Arthur countered. “And from what Mera told me, the Tidewatchers are all connected by the tide or something so if anyone was able to track you down she could reach out to the Tidewatcher council and we’d come find you.” 

She blinked, that was a gross oversimplification of how Tidewatchers communicated with tides but it wasn’t exactly wrong. And it’s not like they could take any kind of Atlantean tech to communicate, that would be way too easy to track. 

Seven Seas, was she actually considering this?

Orm still had more reservations about the harebrained scheme. “Yes but they would likely come too late. If something went wrong, it would be just us out there.”

“The idea is less about fortification and more about subterfuge and deflection,” Arthur said. “We’d be doing our part down here to throw anyone off the track while you two are supposed to disappear on the surface. Who knows? You may even learn a thing or two about it; Elara certainly has.”

It was then that she realized that not only had Arthur remembered her mentioning having experience with the surface but he was using it as evidence for her qualifications to go with Orm.  She had to admit, even if this whole idea completely baffled her- it was smart thinking.

Orm made to object again but Arthur stopped him, “I know, it’s not what you want and it certainly isn’t the most ideal, but right now, it looks like it’s our best shot unless anyone else has any other ideas.Because right now it’s this or locking you up for your own good.”

Orm furrowed his brow, deeply unsatisfied with either option. Elara could see him trying to think of any other option, but like Elara, he came up empty.

“Besides,” Arthur began, trying once more to reinforce the positives of his plan;“this way, with you exploring the surface more, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Orm outright scowled at that, “A charming surface expression, I take it.”

Arthur grinned, “Yep, and you’re going to get to learn a whole lot more.”

Elara was pretty sure that teasing Orm was not the best way to persuade him to agree but she wasn’t exactly about to say that to her king. Besides, Arthur’s blustery confidence and decisiveness were certainly doing their part to get the others on board..

Despite all of Elara’s gifts with the Tides if someone had told her yesterday that the King was seriously planning on sending her up to the surface alone with Prince Orm to protect him, she would have thought they were crazy. She supposed this was proof that the tides could still move in ways that were mysterious even to the most experienced Tidewatcher.

Orm tightened his jaw and she could see the moment he resigned to the idea and yet he kept his back straight and his gaze steely as he fixed Arthur with his stare. Oddly though, Elara could sense he was taking special care not to look at her when he finally said, “Very well, my King. But I trust you to do your sworn duty to look after your kingdom, no matter how odious a meeting or how dull you may find it. Whether you’re equipped to handle it or not, Atlantis looks to you.”

He then looked to Vulko, “And I trust you not to forget to investigate this matter to the very best of your ability, lest you seek to use this as an excuse to exile me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Vulko said icily though it certainly seemed to Elara that he had, in fact, dreamed such an idea. 

“We’ll keep looking, Orm,” Arthur assured him with a determined set to his jaw. “On that you have my word. We’ll get to the bottom of this and get you back here before too long.”

Orm seemed to take, if not comfort, then assurance in what his brother said because he chose not to snipe back at Vulko. He seemed to have resigned himself to whatever this was that the two of them were about to embark on even as Elara could barely grasp this was happening.

More than anything, Elara wanted him to look at her- to see what he really thought of her being the one to join him on the surface. And yet, he kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on his brother as he asked, “When will we leave?”

Arthur looked to Vulko then, decided, back to Elara and Orm. “Tomorrow.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT UPDATE: After writing this chapter, initially, I chose to rework this fic so that it features an OC instead of the Reader. Because this story is blossoming to be much longer than I'd anticipated, I feel like being an OC fic would be better for it in the long run. So from now on all chapters have been restructed with Elara instead of Y/N. All chapters now feature her and will continue to do so for the duration of this fic.   
> I'm hoping you all understand this change and I thank you all for bearing with me. I also worked to polish up these existing chapter and tighten up my prose. The story itself is the same, just the main character is shifted. All you need to know is that the main character is an Tidewatcher OC named Elara. Thank you guys for your patience.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FRIENDLY REMINDER: This story has been remastered into and OC fic instead of a Reader fic. All chapters have been reworked to feature Elara instead of Y/N. If you've read the previous chapters, not much has changed from the story itself, just some strengthening of the prose and pronoun changing. I hope you all enjoy Elara as we continue on!

_ More than anything, Elara wanted him to look at her- to see what he really thought of her being the one to join him on the surface. And yet, he kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on his brother as he asked, “When will we leave?” _

_ Arthur looked to Vulko then back to Elara and Orm. “Tomorrow.” _

-

The next few hours were a blur. There was still much to plan and little time to do so. They’d spent a considerable amount of time debating whether such promptness was prudent or foolhardy but Arthur ultimately won out. As they had no way to discern when the vision would happen, getting Orm away from the palace as quickly was ruled the safest course.

Eventually, Elara left them to their plans. She may have needed to be in on discussions about the logistics of her upcoming departure, but discussions of how to orchestrate it and hide his absence were less in her wheelhouse.

And so, many hours after she’d first entered the palace, Elara returned to the Tidewatcher temple to prepare for her unexpected journey. Entering the temple, Elara was not surprised at all to find Calysa, the unofficial leader of the council, waiting for her. Of course, she’d been following the tides.

“You know?” Elara asked with a sigh.

Calysa, wasn’t as old as Atlanna but she had experience beyond her years. She’d seen much and helped many as well as effectively raising Elara after her mother died. 

The wrinkles around her pale blue eyes crinkled as she nodded. “The patterns are still unclear on much in this matter but, for what it’s worth: I think you made the right decision.”

Elara felt a weight lift, “That helps. Walk with me?”

Calysa fell into step beside Elara, giving the younger tidewatcher space to breathe and think.

Elara had always appreciated that about Calysa. She’d done her best to guide and support Elara not only through her training and the hardest years of her life, but she’d done her best not to smother the young girl. Calysa would always be there with advice and direction but she allowed Elara to make her own decisions about things, which in hindsight, was also one of the most useful skills a tidewatcher could develop.

Elara felt like she’d just walked through a flood with all that had happened that day. Part of her wanted to lay down right there and sleep for a week but, of course, that wasn’t an option right now.

So, forging ahead, she asked, “Is there anything you can tell me about what I’m getting into?”

Calysa sighed sadly, “You know I would tell you if there was.”

Elara knew that but rarely had her gift ever felt so useless. Other than the vision, trying to see her way through this situation was like trying to gaze through a solid rock wall.

“Why is it so difficult this time?” Elara asked.

Calysa took her former charge’s arm and began leading them to Elara’s room, “You’re a gifted Watcher, Elara, what do you think the block is?”

Elara felt like she was a tidewatcher novice again, still being taught through questions. Calysa had taught Elara so much but she believed in giving Elara the tools to divine the answers for herself rather than just giving her own opinion and passing it as fact. It wasn’t until Elara had done the work and divining herself that Calysa would share her thoughts.

Elara had already begun to suspect what the problem was but just wanted some confirmation from someone else.

“It’s Prince Orm, isn’t it?”

Calysa nodded. “Our prince has come to a grand sort of crossroads in the tides. After all that has happened, there are too many options before him. Too many forks in the river for him to choose from, each one twisting back on itself and crossing with others in complicated ways. He is in a unique position. Many of these paths lead to greatness but just as many lead to devastating ruin and until he decides which direction he will take, his tides will remain unreadable to us.”

“If there are so many conflicting possibilities for him, how do we know for sure that he’ll take the path that leads to what I saw?” Elara asked, trying to piece it all together. “My vision could be in a completely different direction than where’s he headed now.” 

Rather than answering, Calysa looked at her calmly. “Do you feel like it’s in a different direction?”

Elara hung her head. No, no she did not. This didn't feel like a possible obstacle on one path amongst a multitude of streams, it felt like a waterfall- inevitable as the pull of gravity. The thought scared Elara, it felt like a challenge too big for her to tackle.

“No, I don’t. I don’t even know if I can stop it at this point,” Elara admitted.

Calysa clucked fondly, “Now I know you know that’s not true. The tides may shift and change as they will but nothing is set in stone. The ocean shouted this at you Elara. It chose you to see this and I believe that’s because you are the one who was meant to see it.”

Elara smiled weakly, “You’re talking in circles again.”

“That’s because time is a circle!” Calysa said excitedly, rehashing an old discussion of theirs. She then shook her head and waved her hand in front of them. “Forget that for now though. Just remember Elara. Remember that the tides wouldn’t have shown this to you if all you were meant to do was tell the King to begin making funeral arrangements. The tides are a thing of water- not of stone. And I have never heard of a vision as strong as yours ever ending in an unchanged dead end. You may not be meant to save him but you were meant to do something with this knowledge.”

Having arrived at Elara’s chambers they entered and sat down on the side of her bed.

Elara was silent, still trying to make sense of the tangled mess that was Orm’s tides when Calysa spoke again, almost hesitantly.

“I saw this possibility once.”

Elara looked to her. “I thought you said you couldn’t reach any of the tides around my vision.”

Calysa nodded, “And I can’t. I haven’t seen any patterns of his death. That’s not the possibility I saw. What I saw was you and Orm on the surface together.”

Elara jolted as she faced her mentor dead on. “You saw  _ what _ ? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Calysa laughed at Elara’s expression. “Because, as I’ve always said, reading the tides is a matter of timing and the time was never right. It was such a small thread, such a faint possibility at the time. Yet, it was still vibrant and I did not want to disturb it.”

Elara knew Calysa had a point, as she often did, but such an idea was so foreign to her.

“Besides,” the older woman continued, “you were hardly in the mood at the time to receive it well.”

Elara squinted suspiciously, “What kind of mood was I in?”

Calysa’s eyes twinkled in mirth, “I believe you were of the mood to call your king a ‘big-headed, close-minded lout who had no respect for the tides or women who were smarter than him’.”

Elara froze, remembering those words and the anger that had gone with them. 

“ _ Then _ ?! You saw us going to the surface together that long ago?”

Calysa smiled, “Indeed. The timing amused me then nearly as much as it does now.”

“But I hated him then,” Elara reminded her.

“Oh I know,” Calysa said.

Elara remembered it all too well. It had been ten years ago that she’d first seen Orm in the tides. She’d been an apprentice perhaps a year or two then, no longer a novice or a teenager but a young woman still. King Orvax had been dead for less than a year and his son had been working hard to master to the daunting task of ruling his people.

This climate probably was not the best time for Elara to see a pattern of Orm making a mistake. And yet, the tides had spoken to her. Elara, having just returned from training on the surface, was brimming with confidence. But, even with the self-assurance that is so often found in youth this had given her pause. She was young enough in the craft that she could still have interpreted it wrong and didn’t want to alienate the young king over a misinterpretation.

Unlike any other pattern she’d seen before, she sat on it for a few days before even bringing it to Calysa. She tried searching the tides for any other part of the pattern she might have missed and yet the message remained clear. Calysa had lightly chided her apprentice for keeping it to herself when Elara finally presented it to her; but, through her own searchings, she found the same pattern that Elara had.

After that, Calysa had encouraged Elara to tell the king what she’d seen. Elara was mortified at the idea but Calysa reminded her this was her duty as a tidewatcher. As long as there had been tidewatchers, there had been unpleasant patterns but it was their responsibility to help the affected parties either prepare for what was to come or to help them learn from and avoid it. Just because Elara was still an apprentice didn’t make this any different.

Orm, new to the throne, was dubious at the idea of tidewatchers but, as he sought to uphold the tradition their service to Atlantis had always been, he had granted Elara, accompanied by Calysa, an audience to discuss the young tidewatcher’s portents.

To say it did not go well was putting it mildly. 

King Orm had been prepared to listen but make up his own mind about the nature of tidewatching in its entirety. He considered the whole thing more of a courtesy than an obligation at the time. His father had not been fond of the trade but it wasn’t in him to disband a centuries-long tradition. He’d just always paid them little mind and put little faith in the tidewatchers and their patterns. Under his father’s example Orm was not a believer in the tides to begin with.

And yet, despite all this, here was this young woman, with scraggly hair and little experience in her gift telling him that she foresaw him making a deal with a surface dweller that would lead to death and pain for his people. King Orm was outraged and prepared to call the whole thing a useless art. He was insulted, and so, tactless or not, he insulted back.

What he’d thought most strange was that the girl refused to be cowed or belittled, even by her king. She stood toe-to-toe with him, utter confidence blazing in her amber eyes as she defended her craft. She was probably a foot shorter than him and really had nowhere near the authority he held and yet she didn’t let it stop her.

Orm had wanted to dismiss it out of hand as preposterous. Ever since losing his mother because of it, Orm had hated the surface dwellers and the idea that he would make any sort of deal with them rankled at him. To think that this apprentice in an uncertain craft could be so certain that he would betray or hurt his people in anyway, especially with a surface dweller was beyond absurd. He’d dismissed her and the idea of tidewatching and focused instead on his reign, as if trying to prove Elara wrong. And yet, he couldn’t dismiss the look on her face as she defended what she knew would happen.

As time had gone on, other more provable and positive tide patterns had at least won the Tidewatchers more credibility with the King. It was several years before Elara had been part of any presentation of tides to King Orm again, and yet, anytime an audience was requested by the Tidewatchers, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be that audacious young woman who’d challenged him so thoroughly.

For Elara’s part, she’d tried to put the whole episode behind her. Though she knew what she saw was still likely to happen, she tried her best to distance herself from the King both physically and in her tidewatching. And yet, even back then, Calysa had seen their paths entwining in the most unusual way.

In the present, Elara was burning with curiosity at such a vision.

“What did exactly did you see?” Elara asked.

Calysa sighed, almost considering keeping it to herself but thought it could do little harm to the pattern to tell Elara now. “You were in a forest. It was dark but a light I couldn’t see the source of seemed to shine around the two of you. Your hair was as long as it is now. And remember that when I’d seen this you’d had that short crop you’d gotten on the surface that made it look like you had a dirty mop on your head.”

Elara scrunched her nose at Calysa’s teasing. It wasn’t that bad of a haircut but it had made much more sense on the surface than when she’d returned underwater. Now her golden brown hair was down to her waist- a good foot and a half longer than it had been when she’d met Orm.

“So you knew it was much farther down the line from that?”

“That and your Tidestone,” Calysa said indicating the gem Elara wore around her neck.

Tidestones had been handed down through generations of Tidewatchers since the time of King Atlan. Made from stones found in the ocean they were said to be imbued with a kind of magic that helped watchers connect with the tides. While that strengthening could be proven, there had long been rumors of some Tidestones possessing other skills like healing or even control over animals. As far as Elara knew though, those were just myths. 

It had long been tradition that as tidewatchers entered new stages of growth in their path as a tidewatcher, they were given a different stone. When Elara had her first vision that led her to cross paths with Orm, she’d been wearing the swirling patterned agate stone of an apprentice but the one she had worn the last 4 years was one of vibrant jasper that signified she was now a master tidewatcher. 

Elara smiled as she touched it, “Did you think of your vision when you gave this to me?”

“Yes, but it still didn’t feel like the right time to tell you.”

“What else did you see?” Elara asked. She knew it was unlikely there was anything truly pertinent to learn from it but the whole idea of going with Orm to the surface, which until a few moments ago had seemed so thrown together, having been foreseen fascinated her.

Calysa almost seemed to speak slower, as if she didn’t want to startle Elara, “The two of you were looking at each other and he said something to make you laugh. I didn’t hear what it was but it didn’t seem to be the point.”

The whole image seemed almost too foreign to believe. “What was the point then?”

“You were happy,” Calysa said simply.

Elara put her head in her hands, mumbling. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.”

“I don’t think this is the kind of sight that requires anything to be done, I think the point of it was just to be seen and known.” Calysa said simply.

Elara kept her face in her hands, bone tired and confused.

“I’ll leave you to pack,” Calysa said before Elara could think of any reply.

Part of Elara wanted her to stay, to comfort her in the face of such a baffling future, to say the right thing to help Elara figure out how she felt about all this. But Elara knew she needed to work through and absorb some things on her own and could use some time alone to take in the events of the day. Calysa knew this so she stood and squeezed Elara’s shoulder once and then left.

Elara should have gotten up immediately to get ready for tomorrow but instead she just lay back on her bed, staring up at the barnacle ceiling, asking for answers from the silent tides.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter didn't have much Orm in it but I felt it was one we needed to not only set up the Tidewatchers some more but to help you get to know Elara better. and we get some history between her and Orm which has been fun to tease before now. I just love this story so much and I'm so happy to get to share this with you all. I would love to hear what y'all think of Elara and the story so far! remember, feedback is love! thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shoutouts for this chapter go to the lovely people who commented last chapter: LeseLille, Pri_Chan1410, doktor_gonzo, StarShield1943, and BoaJones.  
> I sincerely thank each and every one of you for reading and commenting. You guys have made me flail, fist-pump and laugh in joy. It's been a very difficult last few days and having you dears engage so much with what I was going for in this fic meant so much and helped fuel me on with this chapter. Thank you. Hope you all like this chapter!

_Elara should have gotten up immediately to get ready for tomorrow but instead she just lay back on her bed, staring up at the barnacle ceiling, asking for answers from the silent tides._

-

Elara hadn’t meant to fall asleep but next thing she knew A’bree was waking her up.

Elara leapt up, “what time is it?”

“Don’t worry,” A’bree said. “It’s hours before you have to leave. Calysa and I thought you might need a little wake up call.”

Elara groaned, groggy and disoriented.

A’bree sniggered, before saying in a sing-song voice, “You’re welcome!”

And with that, the young tidewatcher swam out the door.

A’bree showed much talent in tidewatching, but as novice, she was still very young and had much to learn in both tidewatching and tact.

Elara almost felt bad that she would be leaving. Elara had spent the last year as one of A’bree’s primary mentors and now she was leaving. She knew that going to the surface was important and that the others would be more than able to fill in for Elara but she didn’t like the idea of leaving A’bree’s training unfinished. There wasn’t anything she could do about the feeling though and instead focused on what lay ahead of her.

Though far from her normal state of being when she started the day, Elara dutifully sat at her scrying pool in the dry reading room off of her bedchamber. She was nervous given the last vision she’d received from the pool but a ritual was a ritual. Elara skimmed her hands along the surface, seeking any answers about what was to come. But no vision gripped her; no tide rose to meet her with a tapestry of patterns telling her what to do. The ocean was silent.

Sighing, disappointed, but unsurprised, Elara left to get her packing underway.

She’d been to the surface many times in both her training and her mentorship but this was going to be a very different experience. For one thing, she’d always been accompanied by other Tidewatchers and allowed to take Atlantean tech with her to the tidewatcher temples on the surface before. But, in a mission of stealth that prioritized being untrackable, such things were a liability.

She had surface clothes and currency, thankfully, but it seemed like she spent much of the morning picking something up only to put it back down again. She also felt hampered by the need to pack light. She was the sort who always wanted to be prepared for everything but she wasn’t sure she could afford to pack like that this time. Eventually she’d narrowed it down to a single pack she could carry on her back. She almost chuckled to think of how Orm’s packing would go.

Once done she spent some time amongst the other tidewatchers of the temple. She would truly miss them while she was away. She’d miss the flow and the rhythm of her life amongst them. As different as they might be as people, they were all united by the tides and there was comfort in that.

She had her last lesson with A’bree, trying to reinforce to the young woman the importance of details but, knowing so few details about what was to come for own journey, Elara’s heart wasn’t in it. She had to admit that she was not the only one preoccupied with Elara’s trip. A’bree was fascinated by the idea of going to the surface. Still a novice, A’bree had only been once and the whole experience still seemed exciting and exotic.

She spent most of the lesson peppering Elara with questions about what she’d be doing but Elara didn’t really know. She couldn’t even tell A’bree how long she’d be gone when asked. Initially put out, A’bree decided it was mysterious in a fun way and then began quizzing her on everything about the surface instead. It was not the most productive final lesson that Elara had wanted but it was understandable given the circumstances.

After that Elara had sat through another watching with Calysa and the council who reminded her of all of their old lessons and to call on them if the need arose. Though fully grown and a master in her own right the last few years, she almost felt like a child among them. Despite all their teaching and her knowledge, she felt unready for what was to come.

But at last it was time for Elara to meet the royals outside the city and Elara bid farewell to her Tidewatcher family. Then, just before she could leave, Calysa took her hand and swam out with her.

Elara was grateful beyond words as they left the temple together. She cast a last look back at the temple, and felt a weight drop in her stomach when she realized she didn’t know when she’d see it again.

They swam for a few minutes in silence before Elara couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know I should just get easy about not knowing what’s coming but it’s getting to me.” Elara admitted. “A’bree asked me what we’d be doing and I couldn’t even answer her.”

Calysa tsked, “A’bree should concern herself with her own tides and not get you riled up about yours.”

Elara shot her a disapproving look, “You can’t blame her for being curious. I thought curiosity was a virtue in Tidewatchers.”

“It is,” Calysa admitted, “but that girl has got more energy than I know what to do with. I don’t know how you keep up with her.”

Elara knew what Calysa was doing. She was trying to make Elara feel more confident and at ease by pointing out how gifted she was and how far she’d come as a tidewatcher. It only half worked. It felt comforting to banter with Calysa like everything was normal, but Elara knew so acutely that it wasn’t and had little energy to pretend.

“I honestly have no idea what Orm and I are supposed to do when we get up there.” Elara said. “I know that we’re supposed to lay low and disappear but besides that, what are we going to do with ourselves? Arthur is hoping I can teach him acceptance of the surface and show Orm that it’s not a total waste but what does that even mean? Do I take him to a recycling plant? A solar panel farm? Introduce him to the wonders of Netflix? What?”

Calysa laughed. “I’d take things a bit slower than that at first. Maybe just show him the everyday pleasures like a park and then try the movie theater. Save Netflix for when he’s ready for it. You know you’re worrying yourself into a tizzy, Elara. I think you’ll be just fine. I have little doubt you’ll think of something to keep you two occupied.”

Elara couldn’t help but remember the vision that Calysa had told her of the night before and felt another twinge of nerves. She wondered if Calysa was thinking of it too. Elara just couldn’t imagine getting there from where she was now.

Unaware of Elara’s thought’s Calysa continued, “I know something will come to you. I may not be able to see all that lies ahead of you but I have the sense that you will not be idle for long. The tides have called you to the surface for a reason. You’ll figure out what you’re supposed to be doing when you are up there. Just be patient.”

Elara puffed out a breath of frustration, the little bubbles floating up from her mouth. Patience was not exactly her strong suit. She’d learned a measure of it over the years but it was still a struggle.

The tidewatchers fell back into silence as they made their way through the city to the massive coral reef just outside of Atlantis where Elara would be meeting the others. Then, as they got to the outskirts, Calysa stopped them and turned to Elara, seriousness lining her features.

“I know how worried you are about this, but Elara, you can do this. You will make it through this time of uncertainty. You have the swell of the tides with you and the faith of the council. Though we cannot go with you, we will be here if you need us. Remember your training and your gift, but remember your heart most of all. It will not lead you astray.”

Elara teared up, suddenly feeling like a child again, so full of uncertainty but she reached out and held Calysa close, wrapping her arms around Calysa’s shorter frame. Of everything she was leaving behind in the ocean, Elara would miss Calysa most of all.

A moment passed and then she pulled back to see Calysa’s eyes watering as well. Elara did her best to put on a brave face as she squeezed Calysa’s hands and then continued forward through the forest of coral and seaweed.

Vulko had said to meet them under the largest coral formation, where a small cavern was hidden from view at the base of it. Swimming quickly now, Elara could see Arthur, Orm, and Vulko waiting for her. Orm was dressed plainer than Elara had ever seen him with simple black pants and a grey shirt and yet, she knew that the material, woven by the finest Atlantean craftsmen, was finer than most cloths found up above.

Orm seemed to study her as well, as if trying to detect whether she was adequately prepared to accompany him. While she certainly didn’t feel prepared, she didn’t want him to know that so she projected a calmness and confidence she didn’t quite feel- wearing them like armor.

The group greeted Elara and Calysa warmly enough but before Elara could ask Orm if he was ready, Arthur surprised her.

“Do you mind if I speak to you alone before you go?” he asked.

Elara nodded and Vulko added, “Be quick about it though. We have a limited window for an undetected departure.”

Arthur acknowledged him before pushing off the reef and leading Elara a small distance away from the others for privacy. Following him around a few coral structures, Elara found herself very curious about what Arthur could say. Had he changed his mind about this whole thing? Did he wake up and decide he no longer believed in tide patterns? Trying to instill an air of patience she did not feel, she remained silent, waiting for what he might say rather than immediately pepper him with her worries.

“I just wanted to check in with you,” Arthur said much to her surprise before elaborating. “In all of this, I never actually asked you if you wanted to do this. I just sort of volunteered you and started making plans. It’s a big responsibility and I wouldn’t hold it against you If you didn’t want to do this. We could send another Tidewatcher or Vulko to go with him. No one asked me if I wanted to be king, they just decided I should be one. I didn’t want to do that to you.”

Elara was deeply touched by such thoughtfulness. It was true she wasn’t asked but considering she also hadn’t been asked if she wanted to be the one to receive that vision, she’d just accepted it as her duty.

“I appreciate that, Arthur,” Elara finally replied. “I really do. But, for better or worse, I think this is something I’m meant to do.”

“I can understand that,” he replied. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice in this. You can say no and we can always send Vulko instead.”

Elara laughed at that. “Oh no, they’d tear themselves apart within a week.”

Arthur chuckled back, “True but this way we wouldn’t have to wonder who’s going to kill Orm.”

It was awful to laugh but Elara couldn’t help it, “There is that.”

Arthur quieted before turning back to her.

“I really do appreciate this. I know Orm can be a lot to handle and starts each morning like someone pissed in his cheerios but, he’s my brother.” He sighed, looking away, “I can’t just let him die without trying something.”

Elara understood, she may not always see eye-to-eye with her tidewatcher family but she’d do whatever it took to defend them. And she felt a bit better about her venture now. It felt more doable somehow now that someone had presented it as an option rather than an order. It helped knowing that if she changed her mind that minute and asked them to send anyone else, Arthur wouldn’t hold it against her. It showed that he understood what he was asking of her. She decided she liked this king.

Oddly enough, she couldn’t help the feeling that Orm was more willing to go along with this nonsense because she was the Tidewatcher Arthur had chosen. It was a perfectly absurd notion especially given their history. Yet, there had been something in Orm’s expression yesterday after they fought side by side that almost hinted at a greater acceptance of Elara and a slight appreciation of her gifts.

Elara shook her head rapidly, okay the nerves must be getting to her because that was crazy thinking. A lot of things had changed since their first meeting but it was a bridge too far to go about presuming that he suddenly regarded her higher than any other tidewatcher that could join him. At most, Elara could argue that he thought that her vision made her better suited for this particular task, but that was all that Elara was willing to concede.

“I’ll do my best to keep him safe,” she told Arthur.

“I know you will,” he said and with that the two of them rejoined the others.

While Calysa had begun conversing lightly with Vulko in their absence, Orm stood off from them. As Elara and Arthur rounded a large cluster of coral, Elara could feel his gaze on her and she met it unrepentantly. She may not know exactly where they stood with each other since the events of yesterday but she had to admit that something between them had changed and it would be an adventure in it’s own right to figure out what that was.

The plan had been to take advantage of the natural migration patterns of a large pod of humpback whales. Arthur was just persuading them to dip down closer to the reef than normal in order to conceal Elara and Orm in their numbers. While the group had entertained the idea of the two of them heading to the surface via a small Atlantean craft, that suggestion had been quickly ruled out as, if someone was motivated and resourceful enough, they could be tracked that way.

So instead they would be free-swimming to the surface, it wouldn’t be difficult for either of them, it was just not the usual way Orm had ever used to reach the surface. He’d always done so with a heavily armed ship surrounded by soldiers. The idea of swimming with just Elara completely baffled him but it seemed like that was his constant state these last two days.

A friend of Arthur’s had given him permission for them to use a secluded cabin off the gulf of Mexico so they would be heading their first. The idea was that Elara and Orm would stay there for a short period of time while Orm got his bearings up above and then they would move on.

Over the crest of the coral forest, Elara saw the swell of the approaching humpbacks. They were large and enough in number to hide the tidewatcher and the prince easily. Noticing the coming of the pod, the group said their goodbyes. Elara hugged Calysa and then slowly, she and Orm began to rise to meet the whales. Orm and Elara swam to the largest of the humpbacks and positioned themselves beneath one of the creature’s large fins. They hugged close to its body to better allow the momentum of the whale to carry the pair along with it.

Working hard to be less aware of how close she and Orm suddenly were, Elara looked down to the coral reef below them. She kept her eyes locked on Calysa until the party was hidden from view by the coral reef. And, just like that, she and Orm were on their way to the surface to an uncertain fate.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You hear that sound? Yes, that's the sound of Orm and Elara finally reaching the surface. Let the hijinks begin!  
> I am so excited to finally be getting to tackle their adventure on the surface. I have some really interesting stuff planned and I'm so happy to finally be getting to it.  
> I've heard requests for more romance and believe me I want to get to it as much as y'all, I am just trying my best to really make it ring true given their circumstances. Basically while I'm putting the slow in slow burn I'm working on making their bonding and relationship more organic and less thrown together. Thank you for the patience and enthusiasm, you guys are the best.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to see Aquaman again and yes, definitely worked to absorb all sorts of details this time specifically so I could write this. It was highly enjoyable and very productive!  
> Before we go, can I just say that I would like to volunteer to be the next person to swim with a pod of humpback whales and Orm? Because dude that sounds like a dream to me, am I right?  
> Now on to the chapter!

_Working hard to be less aware of how close she and Orm suddenly were, Elara looked down to the coral reef below them. She kept her eyes locked on Calysa until the party was hidden from view by the coral reef. And, just like that, she and Orm were on their way to the surface and an uncertain fate._

-

Assuming they wouldn’t have been crushed by the ocean or exhaustion, it would have taken surface dwellers weeks to swim to their destination from Atlantis. Elara and Orm, however, managed it in the better part of a day.

Several hours of that, and by far the day’s longest stretch of time was spent travelling with the humpback whales. They had decided it best to stay with the pod for several hours in the name of stealth. It wasn’t til they were leagues and leagues away that they broke formation and struck out on their own. Elara had scanned the tides for any sign of a tail and, finding none, they changed headings for the Gulf of Mexico.

If they weren’t trying so hard to hide their tracks, they likely could have made the journey in just a couple hours. Atlanteans are extremely strong swimmers to begin with but Orm could cut through the water like a missile. Elara found herself having to do her best just to keep up with him. The last thing she wanted was him thinking of her as dead weight by asking him to slow down.

They hardly talked on their journey except to suggest a course change. They swam alongside other pods of whales and numerous schools of ocean life. Part of it was for stealth but to Elara, it seemed like it was something else for the prince. It felt like Orm was trying to soak up as much of the ocean while he could.

Throughout most of the day, Orm wore a look of complete concentration but there were times- when they swam with the stingrays or over a seabed of vibrant sea anemones that his expression changed. He seemed to be trying to remember and bask in everything about life below the waves while he still could.

While Elara had a fondness for the surface, she found herself doing the same. There really was nothing like the freedom and the ease of the ocean. Everything that felt so natural down here just felt stiffer and more bogged down up above.

Atlanteans in general had a superior sense of direction and location so Elara and Orm were able to find the correct inlet in the gulf of Mexico that would lead to the cottage Arthur’s friend was lending them. It really was an ideal location: close to the ocean but secluded and away from prying eyes.

At sunset, after all the effort and planning, they reached the surface with very little ceremony. They had been under the waves and then they stood on the shore, their feet still in the shallow tides.

Elara was exhausted physically and emotionally and wanted nothing more than to go inside and fall straight to sleep wherever she landed. But she stayed where she was. Orm seemed unwilling to move farther inland from where he stood on the shore. Almost to give him permission, she turned around to face the ocean they’d just swam through. Very slowly, Orm turned to join her.

They said nothing, just watching the sun set as they said their silent goodbyes to the waves. As the sun finally passed below the horizon, Elara felt all of the exhaustion of the day hit her anew. She didn’t want Orm to feel alone in this but the need to rest was not to be ignored.

She sighed, turning ever so slightly so she could look at him and the ocean as she said, “I’m going in. I’ll see what there is to eat.”

When he didn’t reply she turned back around and began walking up the beach to the cottage. Surprisingly, a beat later, she heard the splash of the waves as he followed her.

-

Their first couple days on the surface were miserable. Elara mostly blamed Orm for this but it was partially her fault. They’d gotten off to a rough start when, minutes after entering the safe house, she’d suggested that they change and dry off. He’d looked at her stiffly even, dripping onto the lovely wood floors as he’d asked, “why on earth would I want to do that?”

She’d just sort of blinked at him and then went back to making dinner for them both. She understood being proud of the water and all but hadn’t had enough energy to explain to him how uncomfortable it was to slog about on the surface in drenched clothing. She’d decided this was just going to be one of those things that she’d let him discover on his own.

The first night she’d decided to let him sulk. She left food on the counter, but as he seemed disinclined to get up from where he sat soaking the couch she took her food to the furthest bedroom she’d decided to claim as her own. After eating she’d meant to shower but warm as she was in her dry clothes, she fell right to sleep.

The next day wasn’t much better. He’d at least changed into some different clothes but his mood wasn’t any better. She didn’t want him to get into the habit of relying on her to do cleaning and cooking but she also feared the idea of his clothes from yesterday laying in a sodden pile on the wood floors and growing mold. Instead she’d told him she was taking her wet clothes out to the deck to dry in the sun and suggested he joined her. To his credit he did but he was taciturn and silent.

He had a lot of resentment brewing and it seemed the list of things he resented about surface life only grew. He resented having to be told how to prepare food on the surface. He didn’t like the beeps from the microwave and he hated all of the food items that were highly processed. He complained about various packing materials and non-recyclable containers.

Bearing his complaints as best she could, she decided to go to the store and find some things he might like more like biodegradable packages, and loads of organic vegetables and meats that were as unprocessed or unmodified as she could find. Down below, Atlanteans ate a lot of what the surface might call seafood but she was convinced he’d hate something about their presentation so she’d opted for land meat instead. She invited him along to the store with her but he seemed disinterested in any interaction with the surface dwellers. Elara sighed and went without him.

Unfortunately, his mood didn’t improve the next day; if anything his frustration had grown and been joined by a sort of restlessness. He assented to cooking lessons but she sensed it was less to do with any real interest and more so he could have something to do with his hands.

He liked what she’d picked up better or at least complained less about it and he seemed to at least get some satisfaction out of chopping vegetables and fruits so she made burritos one day and a stew the next that would require his skills.

He wasn’t as bad as he could of been but he was miserable and by proximity he was making her miserable too. She tried to relax, to read what books were in the cottage or to try to meditate on the tides but Orm’s nervous energy was infectious. If he wasn’t pacing or chopping, he was surveying the land and house. Sometimes he’d scoff at something but, happily, he kept whatever dissatisfaction he had to himself.

She understood what he was feeling and certainly didn’t hold it against him but it was a lot to handle. She tried to keep to the common areas in case he had a surface question or seas forbid he wanted to talk instead of pacing about or practicing training routines. Not that she minded seeing him work through fighting forms through the windows but it was kind of hard to pretend to focus on anything else when he moved like that. At one point all of his anxious presence got to be too much for her causing her to retreat to her room.

She’d said she was going to meditate the tides but really she took a bath and tried to unwind. She did actually try to glimpse relevant patterns but their future was as frustratingly muddy as it had been before they’d come up here. She tried to check in on Arthur but she failed to glean anything useful or any kind of progress.

She also tried suggesting that she take him into town to maybe see some local life but he was decidedly against such plans and she didn’t have it in her to argue with him. Did she think getting out of that house and off that beach would help? Yes. But she knew it would take more than just a few days for him to be desperate enough for that.

At first she’d thought it was convenient that the cottage was right off the beach but now it felt more like a curse. Because anytime they went outside or looked out the window, there was the ocean staring back at them.

She’d had a moment where she considered inviting him out for a swim with her but, she almost worried that if she got him back in the water she wouldn’t be able to get him back out of it again. Orm seemed to be on a similar wavelength because he never got close to it.

It felt like there was some invisible boundary line between them and the beach that he refused to cross. At first she thought that he was trying to resist temptation but then she sensed something else from him that shocked her. It felt, in that glimmer, that he was almost punishing himself for something by keeping his distance. The idea seemed so strange to Elara but, a couple times after she’d caught him looking out the windows he’d had this look in his eye that seemed to confirm her sense.

Four days passed in this kind of purgatory. They talked little but most of what they said was functional and pertained to tasks that needed doing. She would have loved to try to talk him through this but she didn’t feel she had that right.

On top of all this, she was endlessly restless as well at being essentially cooped up but she was doing her best to give him space. It was all driving her crazy. So on the fourth day, after failing to persuade him to go to town with her, she’d decided that something had to give. Remembering a very memorable evening she’d had out once as a Tidewatcher apprentice on the surface she went to town alone to get some supplies.

-

Carrying her spoils back to the house in her reusable bags, Elara began to wonder if she’d gotten too much or if this was even a good idea. Entering the cottage, she saw Orm in a short-sleeved shirt doing some of his training forms, the muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing in mesmerizing ways. No, she decided on the spot, this was definitely a good idea.

 

Not addressing the prince, Elara went to the kitchen where she began to unpack her purchases. There were a lot of bottles and they basically filled the counters. Trying to position them all, she knocked a, thankfully non-glass bottle on her foot. At her muttered oath, Orm stepped in before seeing her purchases.

He had frown of confusion on his face, “What is all this?”

“This, my prince,” Elara said as she stood from picking up the bottle and motioning to the many bottles of alcohol, “Is how we’re going to spend our friday night: partying like the surface folk.”

Orm’s frown was now one of distaste. “I have no interest in ‘partying’ especially not as they do up here.”

Elara had expected that, “aha! That is exactly why you need to.”

Orm began to turn away but Elara stopped him, “Orm wait.”

He paused, perhaps only because she’d called him by his name and not his title for the first time.

“Listen, I know it’s hard for you being up here. It’s driving you crazy and I get it. It’s hard for me too. But it’s not going to get easier by us ignoring each other and hoping we can get back to Atlantis tomorrow.”

He was silent for a moment before saying slowly, “I’m not trying to ignore you.”

“Well it still feels like you are,” she said sighing. “Listen, I’m not asking you to like all this but could you try to accept that this is happening? Arthur said he wanted you to get to know the surface and you’re not going to do that by pacing and training here all day everyday.”

He said nothing and she couldn’t read him so she kept going. “I’m not asking you to go out to a bar with me or go out and befriend the local townsfolk. Just work with me here.”

Finally, as if he might actually be taking her words to heart, he asked, “What would you have me do?”

“Tonight,” she said, “I want us to drink and if we’re feeling festive maybe actually talk to each other.”

He was still highly unhappy and hesitant as hell, but, to his credit he followed her into the kitchen to look at their collection of alcohol.

“Where do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehehe. Yeah buddy it is surface shenanigans time. XD  
> In other news, as much as I love to write Orm's redemption, it was actually a lot of fun writing him being sulky and petulant in this chapter. As they say "Orm wasn't saved in a day!" okay so the original saying might have had to do with Rome, but whatevs. Despite my first thoughts for this chapter, I realized it was wildly optimistic to assume that after trying to wage war with the surface that he wouldn't be a Supreme Unhappy Camper if he was stuck up here. So that's what I was trying to stay true to here.  
> Alright enough rambling, hope you guys liked!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my babes, I'm so happy to have you all on board. You guys have done so much to encourage me. And I feel it should be said this wasn't a chapter I originally planned but when it came to me, I realized it was perfect. It was certainly a challenge but worth it. Enjoy!

  


_“Tonight,” she said, “I want us to drink and if we’re feeling festive maybe actually talk to each other.”_

_He was still highly unhappy and hesitant as hell, but, to his credit he followed her into the kitchen to look at their collection of alcohol._

_“Where do we start?”_

-

Elara’s first order of business was to find glasses. She’d only been out drinking once so was unfamiliar with any etiquette surrounding which glasses to use. She remembered seeing a myriad of shapes and sizes at the bar Madren had taken her and the other apprentices to but Elara was only really familiar with the large glass her drink had come in. Madren had explained to them all that Atlanteans had a higher tolerance to alcohol than the average surface dwellers due to their increased metabolism and advanced healing.

Madren hadn’t wanted the girls to get black out drunk but thought it might be a fun experience for them to at least get a little past tipsy. About 6 of those glasses of something called beer had done the trick and Elara had felt delightfully bubbly and tingly all over. So, surely a similar number of glasses would do the trick for her and Orm.

She had no idea what exactly she had drank all those years ago so she had just grabbed what sounded interesting when she’d gone to the store. Now, with Orm’s help she poured out glasses for each of them of a few options and then they took their many glasses to the coffee table in the living room to try.

She’d had no idea how much variation there was or how they could all taste so different. They spent the first round comparing and contrasting the tastes of things like Moscato, Whiskey, Rum, and Vodka. Neither of them thought the vodka or whiskey tasted very good but she liked the sweetness of the moscato and he enjoyed the coconut flavor of the rum she’d bought.

When they moved onto the second round she began to feel tingly but perhaps stronger than the last time she’d drank. She didn’t mind it though and Orm actually seemed interested in their taste testing and wasn’t showing what signs of inebriation that she knew of so they kept going. They ran out of the large glasses they were using and decided it would be less wasteful if they just reused the ones they already had as they revisited their favorites

By their third or was it the fourth trip to the kitchen to get refills, Elara was very decidedly affected a great deal more than she’d anticipated.

Orm seemed so too because, though his stare was very intense in meeting her eyes, he was actually talking her and, if she wasn’t mistaken, making jokes. Yes, several were about the surface but she’d take it over that damn pacing he’d been up to all week. Did he have any idea how hard it was to concentrate when he did that?

She was actually having a good time. Sitting on the couch next to him she felt comfortable and he almost seemed to feel the same. The third time their arms brushed while getting drinks or repositioning on the couch, Elara decided a distraction was in order. So she impulsively thought she might try joking with him. The rational part of her brain was telling her to not spook him but it was being overruled by inebriation.

“How many tidewatchers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” She asked but as soon as she said it, she was hit by worry. Would he even get the concept of changing a lightbulb?

Unphased, or perhaps due to the influence of alcohol, he leaned in with a slight smile and asked, “how many?”

A little buzz rolled through her but she tried to clamp down on it by closing her eyes in mock meditation, holding up her hands before answering in a loopy voice, “why, however many the tides portend my child. We are just an instrument of the patterns of fate. Who are we to say how many of us shall be called to the task?”

It was not a particularly funny joke but he still let out a bark of surprised laughter. Elara couldn’t think of a time she’d heard him laugh before and the sound was positively intoxicating.

Eager to repeat the experience, she asked, “Wanna hear another? It’s even less funny.”

He downed another drink before looking to her again, their thighs brushing as he leaned in, “Tell me.”

She had to quickly wrack her scattered mind to remember what she had been saying. “Okay, this is more of an inside joke but whatever. Alright, so everyone knows the tidewatchers are supposed to watch the tide- like the tide is a child and they are the ones looking after it. BUT what no one knows is that the child is actually triplets-fate, time, and the ocean specifically. So everyone is like ‘they’ve got it. It’s only one kid’ but it’s not! The tides are triplets that only speak in riddles and they hate us.”

Orm was grabbing another drink and she snorted to herself, “I’m sorry that wasn’t very funny. It was more of a ramble than a joke.”

He handed her another glass and held up his own, his eyes almost seeming to sparkle at her. “it was still a funny ramble.”

Elara took her glass and had a long gulp, not even caring what it was he had handed her. He was just sitting so close to her. All of that nervous energy of the last few days had not only not gone away with the drinks but instead it seemed to have multiplied. This was never more obvious to her than when she was suddenly gripped with the urge to touch his arm.

Instead of letting herself explode like a volcano of awkwardness, she just kept going. “Want another joke?”

“Do I dare?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and she honestly wanted to slap him for that look. Seven seas, what was the matter with her?

“You probably shouldn’t,” she said frankly. “This one isn’t much funnier.”

“I’ll risk it,” he said with a smirk.

Taking a breath, realizing she could just be opening up a can of worms she said, “Wanna know what the tidewatchers see when there is too much to see? Mud.”

He got this adorable little scowl on his face, “Wait what?”

“Not actual mud,” Elara backtracked. “But like figurative mud. And that’s our problem with you. There is so much that could happen that instead of seeing any of it, we see mud.”

Orm put his drink back down, not moving as fluidly as he usually did, seeming to have to try a little harder to concentrate on her, “My future is mud?”

“Okay, bad example.” Elara put her face in her hands, groaning, “Ugh, I can’t think of good examples right now. What’s another word for muddy other than mud?”

“Dirty?” He asked.

Elara looked up to see the funniest expression on his face which caused her to immediately start giggling. “No! Not dirty!”

“But not muddy either?”

She shook her head wiping her eyes, “No, not muddy either. Bad word.”

They each became lost in thought for half of a minute while they struggled with synonyms.

She then snapped and pointed at him as an answer came to her, “Aha! Wibbly!”

“Wibbly?” it was his turn to laugh. “Wibbly is not a word.”

“It’s as close to a word as I can think of right now,” she said waving her hand. “Anyway, the word is not the point. The point is that you, my prince, are an absolute contradiction of tidewatching. You have so many possibilites before you that we can’t see diddly.”

She expected him to comment on her second made up word choice but instead he looked at her with a confused expression. She took another sip. “Told you it wasn’t funny.”

He didn’t remark on that, clearly trying to figure out what she’d said and obviously the alcohol was not helping. “What do you mean?”

She put down her nearly empty glass and swiveled on the couch so her back was against the arm and she was facing him fully, one leg pulled up between them. “I mean we can’t see because you are at a crossroads. Like a massive divergence of paths. There is so much possible goodness and grief that can happen that we can’t see any of the paths. Everything is just so twisty and complicated that it’s impossible to sense where you’re headed. So, in a word: wibbly.”

She expected him to laugh, wanted to hear him laugh again but instead he asked, “Is that why you can’t see anything else about what’s going to happen?”

“Yep.” Elara answered, leaning back into the couch, trying to settle into this new conversation. “Calysa is surprised I even saw what I did. And I mean, it’s helped knowing that at least but like it’s driving me nuts that this isn't like normal visions. I can’t get anymore glimpses at the patterns. I feel like I’m trying so hard to fix this but I don’t even know what’s broken.”

Elara huffed in annoyance as she looked at the coffee table.

“Why are you trying so hard?” Orm asked her.

She looked to him abruptly. He had to be joking. Were they doing that again? But no, one look at his face and she could see that, while looser than he ever normally was, he spoke with real confusion.

“What?” was all she could manage at the abrupt change in pace.

He turned to face her more directly as well.

“Why go through all this?” He motioned around the cottage and to himself, his arms unfocused in their gesturing, less controlled than normal. “Why come all the way up here to help save someone you don’t even like?”

Thinking of all the times the last few days she’d had to work so very hard not to focus on how attractive he was, she spluttered. “Why do you think I don’t like you?”

He scoffed. “Please, we hardly met under the best circumstances. You all but said I was a lousy king.”

Elara waved her hands in front of her, “You’re getting all this from that? Orm, that was ten years ago!”

He shifted, fully facing her now, very confused at her reaction to what he thought was a simple statement. “Maybe it was but it was still a very memorable encounter. It took you four years to come to the palace again.”

“Yeah! But I did come back! I got over it” she argued. “We were both young then and still so new to our crafts that neither one of us handled it well. Sure, I’d thought you were just a pompous royal back then but I don’t anymore.”

“You don’t?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“No, I don’t. Was our first meeting awful? Yes. But things changed. You aren’t the same person you were back then and thankfully, neither am I.”

Orm didn’t agree with most of that but he was still trying to wrap his head around it. Finally, bitter, he said, “I still wasn’t a good king.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Elara said, dead serious and distinctly more sober than she’d been just a moment ago. “You worked so hard for your people and most importantly, you were willing to learn and grow. You wanna know when I stopped thinking of you as a lousy king? Three years after we met when the western quadrant of the old city collapsed.”

His mind was whirring, trying to sift through his alcohol-addled mind, trying to remember what about that event could have changed her mind.

Rather than leave him guessing, Elara filled in the blanks. “The tectonic plates under Atlantis had begun shifting. There was fear in the city that it was just the beginning and more of the old ruins would collapse. Since they were essentially our foundation, there was a lot of panic. But, decidedly the people at greatest risk were those of the lowborn. While most of the high born either didn’t care or proposed relocating to Xebel as they waited for the scientists to solve their problems, you actually did something. You worked to find other housing for those in the most danger as well as those whose homes had been destroyed in the first collapse. And then you came to the Tidewatcher council.”

Orm just stared at her. So much had happened since then, he hadn’t thought about it in so long. He remembered what she was talking about though. He had still been new to his reign and as such he had much to prove. He remembered the pressure to appease the high borns but he had stubbornly wanted to think bigger picture. He wanted to help the whole city, not just those with titles.

Elara continued, “Even though you were still unsure about the tides- no thanks to me- you still came to the temple to seek advice in how best to help your people. I was still an apprentice and not on the council but I was outside the council chamber and I’d heard you. I heard you listen to them and then you actually did something with what they told you. You stabilized the city and helped a lot of people without letting your ego get in the way. That impressed me.”

Orm was honestly speechless, and truthfully, even inebriated as she was, he could have heard her talk for a great deal longer. Thankfully, she took his silence as prompting to keep going.

“You took steps to be your own king and not just a copy of your father. No matter what was at stake, he never really listened to us but you did on things big and small. You may not have liked what I had to say, but you listened to the others which was why I eventually came back again.” Elara laughed bitterly to herself. “Though honestly, you weren’t the only one who’d been wrong when we met. I’d been so confident and sure about what I’d seen and yet, I never saw another blip of that pattern. It never happened.”

Orm tensed. He wanted her to keep talking, to keep saying nice things about him for once but it was if there was a rotten beast gnawing at him, a guilt he wanted to banish. So, before he could think better of it he said, “You weren’t wrong. It did happen.”

Elara had been looking at the glasses on the table in front of them when she slowly turned her gaze on him once more. “What?”

“That pattern you saw back then, about me making a deal with a surface dweller and causing pain for my people? It happened.”

As many questions as she had, she could sense how hard this was for him and didn’t want to stop him. She felt like he needed this. So, for a change she was quiet as she waited for him to continue.

“Nine months ago, after the Atlantean settlement in the North Sea was poisoned and murdered by an oil leak, I decided I needed to stop the surface dwellers once and for all. No one else seemed to take the threat seriously enough and since I couldn’t declare war without the other tribes I decided I would convince them of the danger. I found a mercenary from the surface and used him to show what a threat the surface could be.”

He didn’t dare look at her but quickly downed another gulp as he continued.

“It started out slow, just more instances of humans where they shouldn’t be and endangering us. I always controlled things enough so that there was no real danger but it had to look real. Then I finally arranged for the surface dweller to attack my summit with King Nereus using a human war sub. And it worked, the plan worked perfectly until Mera betrayed me for Arthur. I won’t pretend that I loved Mera the way that Arthur seems too but her betrayal stung, perhaps because I should have seen it coming but didn’t want to.”

He wanted to pause, to slow down, to keep this last shame to himself, to not let Elara see him like that. But the truth was, she already had. She’d seen him betray his own people years ago and she’d still agreed to this. Some desperate part of him wanted to tell someone, wanted to tell her, if for no other reason than it might convince her to give up the foolish mission she’d put herself on. She needed to know the truth if she was going to stay here with him.

“I ordered the surface dweller to kill Arthur and Mera and I gave him Atlantean tech to do it. And now? Now I’m glad I failed. Arthur is better than just a half breed. He’s no king yet but he shows compassion I’ll never understand. Though perhaps we have our mother to thank for that. I’m glad I failed for her sake most of all.” Finally he looked to Elara, “It’s worse than you had first seen isn’t it?”

He’d always thought Elara to have an open face, her expressions and thoughts dancing in her eyes but they were silent now. No hint of what she felt was betrayed as she studied him. Then, slowly she leaned forward, and to the surprise of both of them, she took his hand. “No, it’s not.”

He wanted so badly to look in her eyes, to see what she was thinking but he found himself utterly transfixed at the sight of their joined hands. He’d never held hands like this before. There had been times during his betrothal to Mera that he’d held her hand at royal functions- but that’s all it had been: a function and a duty. There’d been no real affection or connection there. It was an act to show strength and unity between their peoples without ever giving him a sense of either. Back then he’d never felt any fraction of what he was feeling now.

She was holding his hand and he had no idea why. Finally, almost warily, he looked up at her, still acutely aware of the feeling of her hand in his.

She surprised him by smiling like she had earlier when she’d told her awful jokes. “Okay, so trying to have your brother killed was bad. Like real bad. Not even gonna downplay that. And trying to provoke a war between the sea and the surface was also really bad- but!” she said just when he was about to hang his head in shame. “You know why this isn’t worse? Because you know it was bad. Because you recognize that you messed up and are willing to learn from your mistakes.”

He found himself looking back at their hands as if surprised hers was still holding his, hardly able to absorb what she was saying but then something in her voice made him look back to her.

“You have been working so hard the last few months to help Arthur be a better king. You have been making sure nothing important slips through the cracks. You could have just sulked in your cell and refused to help. You could have just kept holding on to your righteous indignation but you didn’t. You are actively trying to make up for your mistakes and that counts for a lot. Even when we were coming up with this plan to try to save your life,  you were concerned for your people and reminding Arthur of his duty. Most people in your position would have just focused on themselves."

He couldn’t stop staring at her, her amber eyes alight with passion. She really was beautiful and as difficult as the past few days had been he appreciated that she hadn’t given up on him even when he’d wanted to give up on himself. They were less than a foot away from each other now and he couldn’t stop staring at her lips. She was positively maddening.

“That is why I’m trying so hard, “She said, “because you’re still worth saving. You’re not done yet.”

She found it was harder than it should have been to maintain her train of thought. He was just so close though. Her bent knee resting up on his thigh, their hands still clasped on top it. And his beautiful blue eyes were so open and honest and damn it, he was looking at her lips and that was distracting as all get out.

She wanted for them to keep talking, to keep hearing him say what was really going on with him, to feel this strange sort of connection between them grow. But Atlan help her she also wanted to kiss him so bad.

She knew it was a bad idea but everything was so flowy between them and she felt fizzy inside. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the nerves or the way he was looking at her, but then the dam burst and she was done fighting it. Not allowing herself to think, she leaned forward and closed the remaining inches between them until her lips met his.

It was such a simple thing, such a light contact but Elara knew nothing about this was simple. Orm stiffened beside her in shock and Elara mentally cursed herself. But, just as she began to pull back, mortified, he moved, turning to face her better as his lips pressed into hers.

That was all the invitation she needed so she she leaned back in. The hand that was not currently entwined in his reached out to hold onto his shoulder. He leaned into it, his lips moving with hers. It was sloppy and graceless but it was so magnificent all at once. His other hand was on her thigh while he used their clasped hands to ever so slightly pull her closer. She could feel something inside of her melting with pleasure.

But then, of course, as she shifted to get a better angle, her foot grazed one of the glasses on the table and she jolted, ending the kiss to catch the glass before it fell. Then she saw all the empty glasses on the table and the moment officially ended for her.

Immediately, she pulled back; suddenly needing space between them if she was to keep her hands to herself. He had a startled look on his face but she couldn’t look at him anymore. Though it pained her, she finally dislodged her hand from his and stood up.

“It’s late,” she said as if that was all the explanation needed. She looked at the glasses again and flinched internally. “I’m going to bed. You can put those in the kitchen and I’ll clean them tomorrow.”

He stood up with her,  his face a clear display of confusion. He didn't know what caused her to pull away so quickly but h didn't know how to stop her from leaving.

Fruitlessly he said, “Elara-”

But she cut him off, a strained expression on her face, as she rapidly made for the hallway to her bedroom, “It’s fine. Goodnight Orm.”

Orm was left standing there, his lips still alight with the feel of hers. His hand tingling with the loss of contact and the unmistakable feeling like he’d done something wrong.

"Goodnight," he breathed belatedly just before hearing her door shut.

What the hells had happened?

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh heh. yeah this might be my favorite chapter so far. and it's by far the longest. Like it's over a thousand words longer than the previous longest chapter and I regret nothing. I know some people were hoping for a bit more action but considering I wasn't even planning to write a kiss this chapter I say we're good.  
> I have just loved writing their bond and chemistry developing and this chapter really helped. But let's just say we've still got a long way to go. I have been dying to post this chapter for days but I wanted to devote the appropriate amount of time to editing this beauty and make it feel organic so I'd love to hear what you think of it all. Like feel free to tell me awful my tidewatcher jokes are. I know but I'm not sorry. Til next time!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's just a big thank you to my amazing commenters. I was fist pumping and smiling so hard at your lovely words. Like it's so very validating to hear someone really get what you were going for and also enjoy what you're building. My dears, thank you. Also thanks to doctor_gonzo for pointing out that I posted their first kiss on valentine's day. I had completely forgotten but chuckled when I realized. So happy valentine's y'all. Now let's get to the fall out of said first kiss.

_Orm was left standing there, his lips still alight with the feel of hers. His hand tingling with the loss of contact and the unmistakable feeling like he’d done something wrong._

_"Goodnight," he breathed belatedly just before hearing her door shut._

_What the hells had happened?_

-

Elara decided to blame the alcohol. Though the alcohol had been her fault, everything else was the alcohol. Her heart raced like she’d just run a marathon as she paced in her room. What did she just do?

When she had seen the glasses she remembered exactly how much they’d just had to drink. It might have led to a lovely heart-to-heart with Orm, the kind she’d been hoping for since they’d arrived up here but...but they’d been drunk or close to it. If they’d been sober he probably never would have confided to her like that. The thought made her feel dirty, like she’d manipulated him even if she hadn't meant to. 

And that kiss. That wonderful kiss that she could still feel. He’d kissed her back and it was absolute bliss. But that’s when she’d remembered the alcohol. Here they’d been actually talking and she ruined it by kissing him. What if he’d only gone along with it because of what she’d said or he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings?

Some very small part of her brain suggested that he’d wanted to kiss her too. He had kissed her back after all and the way he’d been looking at her still made her feel tingly.

That small, hopeful voice was quickly overruled by doubt and worry. What if he’d just been going with the flow or letting the alcohol carry him away? There was a solid chance that he had never been drunk before. He certainly hadn’t acted like the version of him she’d come to know. Rather than pacing or pouting he’d actually seemed relaxed for once. He’d laughed and smiled and talked to her. Like really talked to her.

Elara groaned as she plopped face down on the bed. If only he could have opened up to her and kissed her without the alcohol. Then she could still be in there, her hands in his hair as she continued what she’d begun.

But instead she was in here with her doubts echoing in her head.

Seven seas, she’d made a mess of things.

-

Meanwhile, outside the cottage, Orm wasn’t faring much better. His first instinct had been to barge straight into her room and demand answers. But that’s what he would have done back when he was king, back when they first met. When she’d thought him arrogant and pompous. So he repressed that urge and instead headed in the opposite direction and out the front door.

What was that? What exactly had just happened? And more importantly, why had she left?

For the first time since arriving here, he’d actually been enjoying himself. The drinks- crude and intoxicating as they were- had been pleasant. He’d heard of the substance, of course, but this was his first experience with it. It was both freeing and confusing all at once.

He’d told her things he’d never told anyone else and he’d wanted to. For once he wasn’t bogged down by the pride and restraint that had always defined him. And for once he hadn’t needed them. She seemed to see and know so much about him it had felt right that she be one to know the rest of it, as shameful as it was. It was absurd but it had felt right.

As right at it had felt- given the way she’d fled, it had clearly been the wrong choice.

...and yet, she’d still kissed him. _She_ had kissed _him_. And it had been as wonderful as it was perplexing.

Why had she done it?

Had it been pity? The effects of the drink? He didn’t know and it was driving him to insanity. Nothing about the night had made sense and he wanted nothing more than to ask her about it. Even that instinct, that desire was strange to him.

The one explanation he could decide on was that he’d likely said too much and she was now reassessing her option of him. That thought vexed him more than he liked. Intoxicated or not, he had savored listening to her defend him as no one else ever had but it seemed that time was now at an end.

Slowly he went back in and put the glasses in the kitchen as she’d asked. This was at least one mess he’d made that he could clean up.

-

The next morning Elara’s head was pounding and she felt like she’d been hit by a hydro-cannon.

Okay, so Elara had vaguely realized during the evening that downing at least four whole bottles of alcohol might have been a bad idea but her drunk logic had said that if she were making a really big mistake then the tides would come up and slap her or at least warn her somehow. But, as no patterns had presented themselves, she’d kept drinking. She took it as a sign of how truly clouded their situation was that the ocean hadn’t stopped her two bottles sooner.

Now here she was, reduced to laying in bed and feeling like garbage. She’d known surface dwellers to experience being ‘hungover’ but she’d arrogantly assumed she’d be above such things as an Atlantean. And now she was paying the price for her hubris.

Distantly she realized that Orm was also likely paying that same price as well. She thought about checking on him but one lurch of her stomach coupled with the memory of her embarrassment last night kept her in bed. He was a very smart man, he could figure this out. She felt guilty but her shame over her behavior last night outweighed the guilt and kept her under the covers.

She didn’t see Orm at all that day and didn’t hear him much either. Only the occasional sound of running water indicated life in the cottage.

She felt a bit better by evening, her head pounding less, but didn’t have the courage to leave her room and risk facing him. Luckily, her appetite was shot so she resolved to sleeping off the rest of the booze.

The next morning, feeling more sentient, she knew she couldn’t reasonably hide anymore. When she finally emerged, Orm was still in his room and she was grateful for more time to prepare herself. The first thing she noticed was the empty coffee table, now clean of the various spills and smudges they had made during their night of drinking. The memories, still so fresh, settled over her as she looked at the couch. She could almost still hear his laughter.

Shaking it off she went to the kitchen, expecting to find an array of bottles and glasses but it too was empty and spotless. Peeking into one of the cabinets she saw them all clean and stacked neatly. Apparently, while she’d been too busy sulking and hiding, he’d made himself useful.

Feeling doubly guilty, she set about making breakfast for them. A big hearty omelette might help distract her guilty conscience. Though an omlette can be a magnificent dish it proved to be a poor distraction. She didn’t have long to brood though because just as she finished with the second serving, she heard Orm’s door open.

She froze. Elara desperately willed herself to calm down but when that failed she immediately turned around to put the breakfast materials up. She could hear him coming but she just grabbed what she could and began stuffing things in the fridge.

“Good morning,” he said from the entrance to the kitchen.

Elara wanted to continue burying herself in the produce drawer but she couldn’t help herself - she needed to see his face to try to figure out what he was thinking. She quickly closed the drawer and turned to face him.

Unfortunately his face was as unreadable as it had been days ago when they were at the palace. There was no trace of the openness he’d displayed the other night. She could feel something sink in her stomach. She hadn’t expected him to waltz in and demand they pick up where they’d left off but she’d hoped for something else. There was just a reserved quality to his countenance that disturbed her.

She was silent perhaps a few seconds longer than she should have been as she’d studied him before rushing to say, “Good morning, my prince.”

Unable to look at him any longer as the awkwardness settled between them, she was quick to put up the remaining food items while chiding herself. Was it truly appropriate for her call him her prince after drunkenly jumping said prince? She didn’t know but continued to beat herself up about it.

When he didn’t say anything she cleared her throat before motioning to the two plates of omelettes, “I made breakfast. I was just about to sit down and eat,” a pause, “would you like to join me?”

She couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the look on his face if he said no.

There was an uncomfortable silence before he said, “Sure.”

It was far from an enthusiastic agreement, Elara thought, but at least he hadn’t taken his eggs and ran. They were back to baby steps of civility around each other and both resumed chiding themselves silently. 

What followed was one of the most awkward eating experiences either one had ever had. Each one wanting to say something but stopping themselves out of embarrassment. When they did speak it was stilted and full of too much self-consciousness to be truly organic.

Finally she tried for something sincere. “Thank you for cleaning up.”

He had been chasing a chunk of pepper with his fork when she spoke but he looked up at the change in her tone. He wanted to say that it was the least he could do after apparently scalding her with his confession but he didn’t want to bring that back to mind.

When she hadn’t come out yesterday he’d resigned himself to the fact that he’d managed to alienate the only contact he had on the surface in less than a week. He would never say out loud how grateful he’d been to see her in the kitchen this morning, making breakfast like nothing was wrong.

But something was wrong. She was so stiff and hesitant around him, nothing like she’d been this past week, even when they were still down below in Atlantis. She’d always been so confident and sure of herself, but now she was different and he hated it.

He never thought he’d ever hate to hear someone call him his title before. He’d chafed at being called prince again after Arthur’s coronation but, he had to remember that things could have gone a lot worse. They hadn’t stripped his royal status from him and he’d had to make himself grateful for it, small as it may be. 

But now, after having heard her so freely use his name as if they were friends, as if she regarded him as someone fond and familiar, it taunted him. He tried to remain grateful that she was still speaking to him and not immediately plunging into the ocean to get away from him, but it was not an adjustment he was comfortable making.

He couldn’t say any of that though so he just nodded, looking back to his plate as if it were fascinating and not nearly empty.

She sighed, her mortification falling upon her like a bucket of cold water. She’d made such a mess of things but she resolved to try to talk to him even if it would be nothing like the heart-to-heart they’d had Friday night.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said finally. It wasn’t the only thing she was sorry for but it was the only thing she could get herself to say out loud. She tried for a weak smile, “I drastically underestimated the effects of alcohol.”

A reasonable part of him suggested that she might be talking about the illness that had gripped him yesterday morning but more of him thought she might have been saying something else entirely. Like she hadn’t expected him to say such awful things and she’d needed a day to face him again after that.

“I understand,” he said and it was only half true. He wanted to understand but he’d also wanted her not to hate him for what he’d said.

More silence as they each misinterpreted the other and then he stood, taking his empty plate to the kitchen. Rather than coming back to sit again as he had several other mornings, he stopped before the table, and said, “I’m going for a run if you need me.”

“Okay,” she’d barely said before he was out the door.

Elara promptly scooted her plate away from her and put her head on the table and groaned curses to the wood.

-

The rest of the morning was not much better. The anxieties and restless energies they’d had seemed to have only multiplied since their night of drinking. Orm was out of the cottage for so long she thought he might have finally crossed that invisible boundary and returned to the sea. Yet, whenever she’d nervously checked out the windows she could still see him out there- running, training, clearing foliage and debris from the beach and walking path- and pointedly avoiding her.

As she lacked the attention span to read or the patience to get anything else done, she turned on the television, desperate for even the most inane distraction. So she spent the next couple hours watching television. She enjoyed flipping around and seeing how much surface dwellers got up to each day.

Finally, sometime in the mid-afternoon Orm came back in and suggested he make lunch. She wanted to offer to help him but wasn’t sure she’d be welcome so she let him prepare in the kitchen while she flipped around through a parade of surface dwellers having the strangest housing requirements, people just sitting around talking, and others competing for odd accomplishments.

Shaking her head she turned it off when lunch was ready. They ate mostly in a silence Elara resented but lacked the courage to break. When they’d finished she’d expected him to rush back to the great outdoors but instead he pointed to the television in the living room.

“What were you watching?”

She looked over her shoulder to where he pointed, as if to make sure he was actually talking about the television.

The inquiry surprised but pleased her so she risked a small joke, “Oh you know, the wonders of surface entertainment.”

He quirked an eyebrow, but she couldn’t be sure if he did it in amusement or disdain so she asked tentatively, “Want to see?”

I think to the surprise of both of them he said, “Sure.”

And then they were both heading over to the couch and as they did, Elara felt a spike of adrenaline. Here they were again, sober and awkward this time, but back at the scene of the crime. There was a noticeable distance between them as she sat down beside him and was quick to reach for the remote. She needed to do anything to keep from exploding with tension or trying to kiss him again. In an effort of self-preservation, she decided that she couldn’t be tempted if she didn’t look at him and became very interested in the workings of the channel guide on the screen.

She was quick to flip through the options and found most to be too inane or wasteful to engage him. She finally saw some program about art and architecture on something called the History Channel and hoped it would interest him and not gain any scorn he liked to display at surface antics.

She gave him a brief explanation on television and programs but found it hard to explain without wanting to look at him so she gave up pretty quickly and decided he’d find out for himself by watching. She honestly couldn’t say what they watched the next fifteen minutes. There were experts and old art from the surface but it was lost on her. She was trying so hard to focus on what they were saying but all she was aware of was his presence at the other end of the couch.

This cottage was just too small and he was too close and her thoughts were too much. She didn’t know how they could keep going like this. Maybe things would get better with time, but Atlan help them if things got any worse. Maybe it was the cottage, maybe it was inactivity but something had to give.

“I think we should move on from here,” She said and she felt him turn to look at her before she finally looked back at him. He was surprised but she couldn’t quite discern what else he thought.

“You do?” it was a question, like he was trying to learn her reasons before giving his opinion.

“We’d said that we’d stay here until you got acclimated to the surface and then we’d move on,” Elara pointed out.

“Do you really think I’m acclimated enough?” he asked and she had no idea what he meant by asking.

“You can make grilled cheese sandwiches,” she said. “I think that’s as good a sign as any. Besides, I just have this feeling like we need to move on.”

He regarded her studiously before saying, “I thought you couldn’t sense anything else about my future.”

She gulped as she remembered the rest of the conversation that revelation had been apart of.

“I can’t. I don’t see any patterns or portents, I just feel uneasy, like there’s a tug in the tides.” She said, knowing she was mangling the explanation.

“Could this feeling possibly mean something else?” He asked carefully.

Oh she felt an entirely different tug at that, a tug of embarrassment. Was that his way of calling her out about the other night? She flinched but kept her voice as even as she could. “Yes but I don’t think it does.”

Curiously he didn’t ask any further questions in that line instead asking. “Does this feeling have any destination in mind yet?”

Elara sighed, “No.”

Orm didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to leave but knew it had something to do with the other night. While she had a very strong connection with the tides he wasn’t sure if this ‘feeling’ she had was tied to them at all. If this had been a few months ago he would have pressed her into telling the truth or debated the issue at hand. But a lot had happened, especially between them, so he let it drop for now.

It probably was in their best interest to move on. He didn’t feel he would ever truly acclimate to the surface but, with unconfirmed entities still possibly trying to kill him, she was probably right. It shouldn’t have comforted him as much as it did, but he was glad she was at least still willing to go with him. It showed him that, as much as his confession seemed to have affected her, she hadn’t given up on him.

They lapsed back into tense silence and pretended to watch the television. Elara made a stronger effort at attention when a new program came on. This one seemed to be focusing on artifacts of an ancient civilizations that had been lost for thousands of years.

Elara felt the slightest ripple as she watched, no longer having to feign interest. She focused on the television while simultaneously casting her senses into the tides, trying to feel the source of the ripple. In the documentary, an archaeologist detailed the rise and fall of some culture long ago that had sprung up deep in the mountains. Once citizens of a greater nation, they’d split off in search of new opportunities and had thrived in the mountains for hundreds of years. Their civilization had fallen but the researchers were finding all sorts of connections between them and this other group of people.

A tickle of the tides whispered in her periphery before finally, a wave of patterns crested the surface and washed over her. She sat up straight as implications and patterns of old swirled around her. This was not a new pattern, it had been woven by other tidewatchers before her but it was one the tides had wanted her to find.

Orm immediately sensed something change in Elara as she had leaned forward to watch the program. Taut as a string, there seemed to be something else other than interest in archaeology capturing her attention. When she straightened, he did too, facing her full on, curiosity and concern gripping him.

“What is it?”

She turned to him then, no hesitation, an almost holy glow lighting her eyes.

“I know what we should do next,” she said.

“What?” he asked, apprehension clear in his features.

“How do you feel about going on a quest?” She asked with a mischievous smile that was so startling and welcome all at once.

He wanted to know what she had seen but this turn about in her was just so sudden, he wasn’t ready to leap in blind. “What kind of quest?”

Elara looked back to the tv then back at Orm, determination and cautious excitement in her eyes, “We’re going to find the Lost Kingdom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What kind of slowburn would this be without some miscommunication and angst? haha. but anyway, it's quest time you guys. I've had this idea up my sleeve for awhile now and I'm so excited to be getting to it. I'm glad I've taken the time to really build things up between Orm and Elara but it's time for an adventure, hope you guys are interested.  
> Also I realize the likelihood of any future Aquaman movies exploring the idea of the Lost Kingdom is very high but I'm still gonna do my take anyway because I can. Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back my babes. Very sorry for the drought there! I've not given up on this story, I just had a big project due that basically sucked all of my free time.  
> I'm just so happy to be back writing these idiots. Hope you all enjoy!  
> Special shoutout goes to Illegal Cerebral reminded me that people were still reading this. Each of your comments meant a lot and definitely got me excited to write more. Thank you!

_“How do you feel about going on a quest?” She asked with a mischievous smile that was so startling and welcome all at once._

_He wanted to know what she had seen but this turn about in her was just so sudden, he wasn’t ready to leap in blind. “What kind of quest?”_

_Elara looked back to the tv then back at Orm, determination and cautious excitement in her eyes, “We’re going to find the Lost Kingdom.”_

-

“The Lost Kingdom?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she said as if it was simple.

“The Lost Kingdom that has been missing for thousands of years. That lost kingdom?” He asked, wanting to be positive he’d heard her right.

“No, the lost kingdom of the monkey men,” she said sarcastically then clarified. “Of course that Lost Kingdom.”

“They’re dead, Elara.” He was stupefied at her idea of a quest. “They have never been found because there is nothing left to find.”

“I don’t think so,” She said with determination 

“Did the tides tell you that? Is that where you’re getting this from?” he asked like he didn’t already know the answer.

“Of course they did.”

“So the ocean tells you to go looking for a dead civilization and you just jump?”

“I do when they tell me like this.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Said the man who is on the surface because the ocean told me you were in danger. You had no problem believing the ocean then.”

“That’s because that’s more tangible. There are plenty of people down there who’d have reason to want me dead. There is nothing like that to back the idea that the Lost Kingdom is still alive and kicking and just ignoring us for millenia. It’s not like they wouldn’t know where to find us.”

“But I think they are still alive,” she argued. “And I’m not the only tidewatcher to think so.”

He fixed her with a stare. “If tidewatchers had sensed them before, why didn’t they tell anyone?”

“They did,” Elara answered, settling in for a debate. “Tidewatchers have been seeing patterns about the lost kingdom since they disappeared. For the first thousand or so years we told the king, his council, and anyone else who would listen.”

Even as a former king, this was news to him. “Did everyone just ignore them then?”

“No. Expeditions were launched for the first several hundred years, sometimes led by kings, nobles, scientists and researchers.” Elara sighed. “But none of them ever found the Lost Kingdom and eventually people stopped believing us. They blamed the Tidewatchers for getting their hopes up and claimed we were just wasting everyone’s time. So we stopped saying anything even though we still get hints and ripples from time to time.”

“What makes you think we have even a chance to succeed where generations of Atlanteans have failed?”

“I don’t know that we’ll succeed,” Elara said without a hint of shame. “We very well could be just as unsuccessful as everyone else that has come before us.”

Orm tried not to be annoyed by her sudden confidence when he didn't feel any himself.

“Then why try?”

Elara considered her answer very carefully before speaking. “Because isn’t it better to try something and fail than to do nothing? You were a king who used to have hundreds of duties to perform each day. I know you’re miserable up here. I know that being so idle chafes at you and I get it. I’m restless too. I hate feeling so aimless. So let’s do something. I’d rather try to do something that is very likely to fail than just sit around feeling useless. Wouldn’t you?”

He stared at her, mesmerized. How was she able to read him so easily? How could she see straight to his core as she did?

He didn’t say that though, settling instead for, “Of course I would.”

“Then why not this?” She said vibrating with energy. “Why not look for the Lost Kingdom? If we succeed it could do so much to help your image with the tribes of Atlantis. And, even if we fail, at least we did something with our time up here.”

It really was maddening to try to argue with her when she was like this. She knew what she was proposing was insane but also knew exactly how to tantalize him into agreeing. He secretly loved seeing her like this. Her confidence had always been one of her most attractive features and it was welcome change to the tension and timidness of the morning.

They very likely would be chasing ghosts but it was better than nothing and Orm had always loved a challenge.

He smiled and repeated, “Why not this.”

A brilliant smile lit up Elara’s face, “And besides, if we find nothing, we can always work in some more time for sulking.”

Orm couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. Their eyes met and he couldn’t help but think that he’d do far more to keep her smiling at him like that.

\--

They spent the next hour or so plotting while Elara did her best to wring tangibility out of the hints and ripples the tides had presented to her. Most of what she saw was just glimpses and feelings though. It was like waking from a dream with just enough images and sensations to verify it had happened but not enough substance to put into words.

Incomplete as the picture was, Elara was undeterred. She was convinced that if she put enough pieces together then more would be revealed. Like with a puzzle, all they needed to do was to connect the edge pieces and they would have a place to start.

They were still sitting on the couch together and occasionally that fact would send an awkward or excited thrill through her but it was easier for her to manage those if she had a goal to direct her energy to.

“Was there any location in these patterns you saw?” He asked after she’d tried to give him a run-down of what the tides had given her.

Elara’s face screwed up in concentration, “I know I saw something, somewhere but there are so many images and abstract sensations that I’m having a harder time parsing it all out.”

“What do you need to do?” He asked. What he’d learned in ruling and fighting was that, no matter how difficult things could get there was always a method, a technique that could make things more manageable. They just needed to find one for sifting through a complex tide pattern.

Elara couldn’t help but wring her hands together. “I know I need to just relax and concentrate but there’s just so much more to this web than I’m used to. This pattern is ancient and complex and I don’t even know where to begin.”

Orm knew very little about her craft but he had an idea about at least one problem she brought up.

“Sit back,” He said in a way that wasn’t a suggestion. He just had a voice that was more accustomed to commanding.

She shot him a look that very clearly said ‘Excuse me?’

Orm sighed, motioning to her, “You said you need to relax, I’m trying to help you. You’re all hunched and tense. Posture is important for preparing the body and the mind for a task.”

Okay so he made a certain kind of sense but Elara also knew she couldn’t tell him how very difficult it would be for her to truly relax sitting next to him with his intense eyes fixed on her. Arguing with him would have the opposite desired effect though so she made a show at scooting so her back was pressed against the couch.

He sent her a dubious and slightly teasing look. “Do you even know how to relax? You look like you’re about to be bludgeoned by something.”

She laughed, “You’re one to talk, when was the last time you relaxed?”

Instead of laughing back, he looked away. The last time he’d relaxed was the other night with her.

“Okay, we both have work to do in that area,” he assented. “Here, I’ll do it with you.”

She raised her eyebrows at that. Yeah, she’d believe that when she saw it. And yet, there he was, making a big show about sitting back next to her and closing his eyes. She tried to adjust her back but couldn’t help but peek at him, more entertained than she should be by him playing along with her.

Eyes still closed, Orm said calmly, “This works best if your eyes are closed too.”

Elara started and instantly closed her eyes. How did he know? Some small childish part of her wanted to open her eyes and stick her tongue out at him but it was a foolish notion she managed to repress. He was trying to help after all, even if he still managed to exude such a deep commanding smugness. But given his idle restlessness of late, it was almost a refreshing change. Almost.

“What is it we’re meant to be doing that we can’t do with our eyes open?”

“Focusing,” He said cryptically.

While Elara was skilled with the tides, patience had never been her strongest suit and focus was particularly elusive given how overstimulated she was by this whole pattern of possibilities. She felt like a kid in a candy store, and it was nearly impossible to calm enough to focus on any one thing. She didn’t want to be petulant or anything but it’s not like Orm had a web of whispers dancing around his head to contend with.

So after a minute of silence in which she barely managed to keep from bouncing in her seat, she finally said, “Focusing on what?”

She could almost hear him smiling in amusement as he said, “What do you normally focus on when you’re reading the tides?”

Elara let out a breath, “Normally? I just listen until the image becomes clearer but that’s when I’m trying to make out a single image, not a whole milenia of hints. There’s too much and it’s all out of focus.”

Elara had begun fidgeting with the edge of the couch as she rambled. Of course she didn’t realize that until she felt his hand cover hers. All of her stilled at the contact.

“You know that won’t help you focus on anything.” He said quietly but confidently.

Considering how he’d felt at a disadvantage the last week or so, it was interesting to see the tables turned and have the confident tidewatcher suddenly so anxious.

It took everything in Elara not to tell him point blank that physical contact with him wouldn’t help any kind of focus but he moved his hand away before she could muster up any reply of the sort.

“Sorry,” she muttered, though not sure what she was sorry for.

“It’s alright,” he said, “Just relax.”

Again, easier said than done. But try as she might, none of the old tidewatcher tricks were working. She was alight with energy and portents and didn’t know how to quiet any of it enough to parse anything out.

Almost as if he could feel the tension still radiating off of her, Orm tried another tack, “Just breathe, and focus on your breaths.”

She tried. She honestly did, but suddenly something so natural felt detached from her somehow and she didn’t know if this was how she normally breathed or not. It seemed too forced and Elara felt completely overwhelmed at the fact that she couldn’t even breathe normal. She just needed to focus, but maybe if she couldn’t focus on herself, she just needed to focus on anything.

Casting about, she could hear Orm breathing beside her. Unlike her, he was calm and unhurried. His breathing unlabored. It was a calming sound, like the waves of the ocean lapping at the shore. It was simple and sure. So she focused on that, on his steady breathing to guide her to even out her own. And slowly, slowly, her breathing fell into step with his, her body calming as she put away all thoughts but that of their breaths like the tides of the ocean.

And, just listening to him, she saw a gradual image floating to the surface in her mind’s eye. An ancient temple that Elara had seen before swam in her head. It was old but not as old as Atlantis, and not of Atlantean design but it had the ripple of the Lost about it. Where had she seen it? She kept her breathing even, focusing on Orm beside her as an anchor.

Now the temple was….Mayan? That sounded right? Where had she learned that? A book. A book from Madren’s library about human civilizations. They’d laughed because Atlantis had been mentioned as a fallen civilization and a myth in the same text.

Where was it? Mexico? That felt right. They were close to Mexico, in the country to the north of it, it wouldn’t even be far. This wasn’t the answer but it was a clue, a breadcrumb on their trail.

Elara’s eyes popped open and when she turned to look at Orm, she found his ocean blue eyes looking at her.

“You saw something didn’t you?” He asked, with a satisfied smirk.

She wanted to tease him for his cockiness but she was too excited, “I did. Thank you.”

“So where to?” He asked, fascinated.

“Mexico, our first clue is in Mexico.” She said, full of confidence and enthusiasm.

Orm just blinked, “I presume you know where that is.”

She laughed. “Yes. We leave tonight!”

\---

With a direction in mind, it was much easier to move forward. While Elara had a number of false identification papers for herself, she didn’t think what they had on hand would be enough to get Orm across the border. She’d learned from her travels that surface dwellers could get very territorial about different stretches of land that required all manner of documentation.

After a discussion of the problem at hand, they decided the best course of action was to simply slip into the gulf for a brief stint and then pop back up on the other side of the border. Of course their idea of a brief stint of a couple hours would have taken days and intense endurance for any surface dweller.

All that was left really, after consulting maps and the internet for the exact location of the site, she’d learned it was in fact called Tulum and positioned across the gulf from where they were presently.  Elara concerned herself with the planning while Orm took charge in preparing. He’d gotten a decent enough grasp on what foods took prepping and what he liked so it was easy enough for him to pack what they would need once Elara told him how to package things for travel.

It should have disturbed Elara how seamlessly they worked in tandem like this. The fact that they worked well tackling their own tasks and yet coming together with little fuss. And yet it comforted her. This whole situation was still nearly absurd to her and yet, it helped to have someone else to rely on and work with, to have someone listen to her. She had heard Madren say that necessity makes for strange bedfellows but hadn't really appreciated that 'til now. 

And given how awkward things had been after their eventful night of drinking, she had worried that their whole stint on the surface would be plagued with the same fraught tension. But, apparently, avoiding the matter entirely and diving into a completely different task was the answer to their problems. She and Orm were both creatures of purpose and habit and clearly functioned much better with a course of action rather than free time.

Even if the quest was just a magical goose chase, it would be better to be out doing anything than twiddling their thumbs in seclusion.

Between the two of them, they were ready for departure in an hour. Elara took the time to leave a note of thanks to their absent host. Elara may have never met the Diana who owned the cottage they’d taken refuge in but it had been kind of the woman to open her doors even of a spare house to people she had never met.

And then suddenly, they were both standing at the door with their Atlantean waterproof bags packed and they were ready. Without speaking they both turned back to look around the little cottage that had been their refuge for their first week on the surface. It hadn’t been a particularly happy week but it hadn’t been entirely miserable either. Elara felt her eyes lingering on the couch -she definitely had an almost fondness for that couch- before looking back to Orm beside her.

His expression was unreadable, she didn’t know what he saw as he looked over the living area they’d occupied together but there was an effect on him, she could feel that much, even if she didn’t know what it was.

As if his appraisal was done, he looked back to her, motioning to the door neither one had reached for, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she said, trying to keep that confidence from earlier in her even as the nerves she felt for the unknown jangled in her gut.

And, as they’d come to this little house on this small inlet of a beach, Orm and Elara silently left it behind them and returned to the sea, even if just for a small journey, and into the nearly unknown.

Elara looked to Orm, still surprised at how everything was turning out, he looked to her and saw some question in her eyes and nodded in reassurance and then they were beneath the waves, surging against the tides into the gulf beyond.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woot woo! all aboard the quest express. It's happening. Expect more fun tension to follow! if any of you lovelies are still about, please give me a shout. I've missed you guys.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've hit over 1,000 hits on this fic! That is crazy and I'm so flattered and jazzed. I'm so happy to have so many of you aboard on this journey with me (and Orm and Elara)!  
> This chapter's special shout out goes to TheKingOfSass. Your comments were so lovely and just made me feel so good. I have to let you guys know that every comment just makes me do the spazziest little happy dance. Thank you all so much. and now, onto the quest!

_Elara looked to Orm, still surprised at how everything was turning out, he looked to her and saw some question in her eyes and nodded in reassurance and then they were beneath the waves, surging against the tides into the gulf beyond._

 

\--

Compared to the longer journey to their safe house, the jaunt across the gulf of Mexico was not an extensive one. That being said, wary of any Atlantean surveillance and surface border disputes, their trek was still a meandering one. They mostly travelled in the deepest parts as it was always safer to stick to the ocean floor when surface dwellers were involved.

However, this journey felt a touch more pleasant owing to the level of familiarity they had developed with each other. They had a rhythm together that was more perceptible to Elara in the ocean. Then again, connections were easier to feel down where the literal tides flowed around them. Part of the challenge that motivated tidewatchers to spend time on the surface was learning to feel those tides up above so as to strengthen their awareness down below.

Elara knew it was difficult for Orm to be back under the waves but still unable to return home. She flattered herself to think that it was easier now that she was giving him something to do other than hide but she still couldn't be sure. He wasn’t as stiff and silent as he’d been on their first swim was all she could say definitively.

She was happy to let him pick course changes, as all that really mattered was that their journey was circuitous and it was more so with two different people picking the path.

She wanted to just enjoy being in the ocean with Orm but something just kept niggling at her. An off feeling in her stomach but with everything that was happening she couldn’t be sure if it was emanating from her own worry or the tides.

Something felt wrong and the feeling only grew stronger and more distracting. Elara turned most of her focus into discerning the tangled thread. She didn’t realize how distracted she was by it until Orm caught her by the arm before she could swim into a boulder planted into the ocean floor ahead of them.

He had one hand holding her steady by the wrist while the other hand was at her waist. She looked at him at the contact, feeling like she was startled from a dream.

Seeing the dazed look on her face, he frowned. Having been around her long enough to know what these things tended to mean, he asked, “Did you see something?”

Elara’s brow furrowed in concentration, “I can’t tell. There is definitely something but I can’t see it clearly enough.”

“Is it immediate?” Orm asked and Elara admired that he had skill in taking such things in stride and he’d certainly adapted to asking the right questions.

She felt another tug in her gut, “Yes.”

She then took the opportunity of the pause to close her eyes and really feel out each thread in the web they were caught in. There was a dark presence in the tides, she felt that much, but what did it mean?

She then straightened like she’d been shocked. Opening her eyes, she met Orm’s concerned blue gaze. “Someone is following us.”

She could feel Orm moving into action even as he stood still beside her, “Who is it?”

“A man,” Elara answered, working to keep what glimpses she had close at hand. “He’s wearing a black suit but I don’t recognize him. He doesn’t look Atlantean.”

“Is he from the surface?” Orm asked.

“I think so but he’s wearing a helmet so I can’t see his face.” She saw a storm brewing behind Orm’s eyes so she asked, “Do you know who it might be?”

“I can’t say for sure, but there are any number of mercenaries willing to do the dirty work of both  the land and sea.” He spoke with measured patience but she could still sense the regret behind his words and that he was thinking of his past mistakes with such mercenaries.

Trying to distract him she asked, “What should we do?”

Rather than reply, he answered her question with another question, “Is he close?”

“I can’t tell, I can only see that he is on our trail,” She answered, trying to strategize as well. “I think we should try to shake him. Better to try to lose him now than lead him to Tulum after us. What do you think?”

Orm nodded, “He probably doesn’t know we’re onto him yet so we should try to use that our advantage. We’re going to take some diversionary paths to throw him off.”

Realizing he was making the decisions like he might have when he was king, he looked to her but she was just nodding, trusting Orm to make the right call. She knew he had more experience in these things so it would make no sense for her to try to take charge in this.

“You lead and I’ll continue probing the tides for anything more about him.”

And with that they were off, moving silently through the water, skirting the ocean floor so that Orm could keep an eye on all of the sea above them. Sometimes they’d abruptly change directions without speaking. It was an erratic course and almost senseless but Elara trusted Orm’s judgment in this. The idea of their follower being a surface dweller made Elara incredibly uneasy. Not that she would have been more comfortable with an Atlantean trailing them based on the hostility that she could sense, but it added more danger and menace in her opinion.

An Atlantean’s motives were easier for Elara to decipher but she could see fewer reasons if they were from the surface. Near as she could fathom, either a surface dweller knew that Orm had been king and to blame for the attack or an Atlantean had outsourced their vengeance. She didn’t care for either option but she wasn’t seeing a better reason.

They’d been weaving and backtracking for about half an hour when the tides spoke to Elara again, though perhaps it would be more accurate to say it shouted at her.

“Stop!” Elara suddenly exclaimed. Orm, who’d been swimming slightly ahead of her, paused instantly.

“What is it?” Orm asked.

“I don’t know how but he’s still tracking us. He’s just ahead of us now. He booby trapped the canyon up ahead.”

That familiar look of concentration could be seen again on Orm’s face. “Could we swim above or around it?”

Elara shook her head, “That’s what he’s waiting for.”

“What’s the trap?”

“Near as I can tell it’s motion-triggered explosives.”

Orm clenched his jaw at that. If he’d been anyone else he might have sworn but he was typically very good at maintaining composure under pressure. “We need to find another path.”

“Should we backtrack?” She asked.

“It hasn’t done us much good so far. We need to try another plan. Something he wouldn’t expect.” he said.

Orm then stilled, causing Elara to frown in concern before looking around to see if he’d seen anything to cause a reaction like that, “What is it?”

“Different problem, but same solution as before,” he said almost bitterly. “We have to go to the surface.”

“Why?” Elara was very surprised by this suggestion.

Orm sighed, “As my brother said, it would be the last place anyone would think to look for me.”

She didn’t exactly disagree but was yet unconvinced this was the only option. “We don’t know for sure that they are after you. What if that’s exactly what they want? We have the advantage of water down here if it comes to a fight.”

“Why else would they be following us? I don’t see you having made many enemies.” He said and she couldn’t argue with that point. He went on, “Besides, what are our other options? Explosives in the canyon or capture passing over it? We should take our chances with the unexpected.”

Elara still wasn’t sure that this would be unexpected but she didn’t have a better plan, “Okay, let’s do it your way.”

In their winding and indirect path to Tulum, they’d swum past and around several islands, and they discerned that they were very near one now and they could duck back a very short distance to ascend there. From Elara’s sense of it she’d surmised that there was enough wilderness still on the island that they could get lost and lose their tail without too much human intervention or interaction.

That tug in Elara’s gut didn’t go away but it didn’t get worse either and she didn’t see any flashes like she had of the explosives in the canyon. She reasoned that Orm was likely right and there was less immediate danger in this path than in the others.

Using Elara’s tidewatching they were able to find a deserted spot of beach and jungle to safely make land. For the first time that she could remember since her very first trip to the surface, Elara felt exposed and sluggish on land. This whole situation felt wrong, even surrounded by trees she felt they were too out in the open. But as the tides remained silent, she couldn’t be sure.

It wasn’t until an explosion leveled a stand of trees to their left that Elara was certain. She’d only caught the hint of the possibility of it a second before, just enough time to shove Orm to her right, behind herself and a large tree.

Splinters of bark and charred shreds of leaves flew around them and Elara felt a sharp pain in her side and left arm. She gasped in pain as she fell to the ground beside Orm where he was looking in the direction of the explosion for any sign of their assailant. At her gasp he looked to her briefly, enough time to note the blood beginning to run down her arm and staining her shirt.

He made some sign to examine her further but she waved him off, “Do you see anyone?”

He made a face but quickly launched back into the problem at hand and took in the rubble before them.

“There,” he said pointing to the beach where a man in black stood with a bulky cannon that was clearly adapted from Atlantean tech. Tech that, Orm realized with a grimace, was likely derived from the weapon he had given to the Black Manta.

“We’ve got to move,” Elara said, grunting, “get out of the open.”

Orm knew they would have to strategize and fight back but that would have to wait til they were less vulnerable- Elara, injured as she was, especially. He nodded, and moved to support her on her uninjured side. She threw her arm around Orm’s neck, hobbling and suppressing curses at the large splinter in her side as they began to hurry through the trees. There wasn’t another blast until they’d made it another ten feet. Orm was surprised at the gap in attacks but filed it away for analysis until they were in a more secure location.

The one advantage on their side was the rapid changes in the terrain at the beach where they landed. If not for the presence of boulders and the uneven nature of the jungle floor, they might have been worse off. Elara liked to think that the tides had guided them here for that reason but they didn’t exactly have time for idle speculation. What energy Elara wasn’t using to keep up their pace, despite the pain, she expended on looking for any sign from the tides for a way out of this.

More sporadic explosions followed them until Elara, guided by the tides, directed Orm through a denser cluster of trees. The trees led to an old system of open caves with holes in patches of the roof to let in natural light to guide them through the serpentine paths. It wasn’t until ten minutes without any sign of attack had passed that they finally stopped. Orm deemed this section of cave suitable enough as it would hide them from immediate view from the ground above or the way they’d come.

Each breathing heavy, Orm helped Elara down to a small ledge before kneeling before her to look at her wound. He needed the rest too but Elara was too winded to immediately argue and allowed him to examine without complaining.

While the smaller twigs and debris had been dislodged from her arm in their flight, a few larger chunks of wood stuck out from her side where blood and sweat now soaked her shirt. Orm would never pretend to be a medic but through his time in battle he’d seen and inflicted his fair share of wounds so he at least had a little knowledge of injuries and a small amount for emergency care in the case that he couldn’t see a healer right away. He was careful not to probe too deeply as he tried to assess the damage.

“How’s it look?” Elara said through clenched teeth.

“It’s not too deep so I think we can take out the splinters but I wouldn’t want to unless we had anything to dress the wound to keep you from bleeding out.” He said, trying to stay professional despite how hard his heart was beating to look at it.

“In my pack,” She breathed heavily, trying to reach with her good arm to the bag on her back, “I’ve got some bandages and salve, just in case.”

Despite the situation, Orm couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile off of his lips as he retrieved them. She always seemed to think ahead. Elara could never be called a warrior in the way that he was but he admired the way she bore his clumsy ministrations with little fuss. She was practical and cognizant of the possibility of giving away their location if she made too loud a noise. Orm respected her for that.

Getting the splinters out was extremely painful and when he extracted the first piece she reached her hand out to hold his shoulder without a word, sucking in breath as she tried not to shout. Orm almost stopped at that but she gave him a squeeze as if to ask him to keep going, so he did.

Despite how tight she gripped, Orm’s hands were steady and swift and he didn’t comment. Instead he focused on discarding the bloody bark, before he set about trying to clean out the wound with some water from her pack. Once most of the dirt was out of the wound, he handed her the canteen and told her to drink what was left while he applied salve. She took measured, gulps as he bandaged it as best he could.

Elara would never have believed this was actually happening if it weren’t for all the pain. She certainly never expected her former king to be dressing any injury of hers and yet, in context it wasn’t odd at all. And she couldn’t decide what was weirder: the situation itself or that the situation didn’t seem odd to her. It was just par for the course at this point. That being said, she was grateful for his help.

His task done, he finally joined her on the ledge, wiping his bloody hands on a spare shirt from his own pack. When he stowed the shirt back in his bag she handed him the last of the water and watched as he drank it. They were silent for a moment as they tried to catch their breaths and take in their new circumstances.

“What are we going to do?” Elara finally spoke, asking what they were both thinking.

It wasn’t easy but Orm said slowly, “I don’t know.”

They sat for another moment before Elara spoke again, “Do you think he’s herding us again? Why else wouldn’t he have shot at us right after the first blast?”

“I’m not sure but I have a theory,” He said carefully. “I don’t think he knows what he’s doing with this technology. It’s based on Atlantean design but it isn’t pure and so it’s less refined than the original. I can’t be sure until we know why they are after us, but I don’t think this mercenary is working alone. Whoever adapted the cannon knew enough about it but that isn't the same man we saw on the beach. He may just be a lackey who clearly wasn’t trained well enough to use it effectively. That’s to our advantage though. He seems to need more time recharging or re-aiming and that’s likely why we’re still alive.”

Elara marveled at his deducing skills, he thought quickly on his feet and picked up more than she could have guessed, likely from all his training for battle. She hoped he was right, if their assailant was as inexperienced as Orm believed, they had a shot at outmaneuvering them.

Thinking over what he said, she smirked. “They’re too big for their britches.”

Orm frowned at her in confusion, “What?”

“Never mind, just a surface expression. Madren used to say when I would try to tackle more than I was able to.” She waved her arm, lacking the energy to explain further only for the motion to send a wave of pain washing over her.

She sobered then, they were in the thick of it and unfortunately the only solution she could think of was one she was loath to consider. Someone needed to say it though.

“I think we need to separate,” She said quietly and yet his head still turned whip-quick to look at her.

“What are you talking about?” he responded with more fervor than she had expected.

As even she didn’t like the idea she’d expected some resistance so was ready with a reply, “As you said earlier, they’re after you. I’m just going to slow you down with my injury.”

“Your injury is a good reason why we should stay together. What would you do if he went after you instead of following me?” He didn’t like to think of that possibility. He wasn't sure he knew what he would do if she was wrong.

“I’m not defenseless, Orm,” She insisted, pointing to her boots where the knives they’d used against the Trench were still stowed. “And I’ve got the tides to help too.”

“The tides didn’t stop you from getting hurt,” he pointed out, more bite to his words than she had expected.

She didn’t miss a beat before replying, “It protected you, didn’t it?”

Remembering her throwing him out of the way at the last minute put a pause in his argument. She had thrown him free just in time even though it cost her. He was far from throwing himself to the mercy of those who wished him harm but he wasn’t sure that he was comfortable with his safety coming at cost to Elara. Given all of the security and soldiers who had fought to protect him as king, he realized this was perhaps hypocritical of him. He certainly wouldn’t say what he felt out loud but that didn’t stop him from feeling it intensely.

“We would be stronger together,” he finally said.

She met his concentrated gaze with a determined one of her own. “Right now we’re sitting ducks together and whether you like it or not, we’re at a disadvantage with me like this.”

“I thought you just said that you could defend yourself with the tides,” he countered.

“Yes, as a defense but it’s not a solution.” She maintained.

“And splitting up on land as an unknown surface dweller with Atlantean tech hunts us down is a solution?”

Rather than respond to that, she turned to face him full on and put the hand of her good arm on his. “I know you don't like this. I don't either; but we have to do something. It's only a matter of time before he finds us. We still have no idea how he's tracking us so he's likely to catch up soon. If we split up we might be able to figure out if he’s doing it through conventional methods or if it’s one of us specifically.“

Orm was still very much against separating because there were too many unknowns to guarantee any success to her plan but he was a shrewd enough tactician that he could see there were strategic advantages as well.

“I’m not saying I agree but whatever we do, we need to have a plan. We can’t just walk in different directions and hope for the best.” He said gruffly, trying to convince himself he wasn’t affected by the feel of her hand on his arm.

“That would be a terrible plan,” she agreed, pleased that he was at least entertaining the idea. “You’re right, we’d need to think of something besides just running away. We have to find a way to gain the upperhand.”

“And you think we have to split up to find it?” He asked, still unconvinced.

“He had to have seen me get hit and I’ve got to think he wouldn’t expect us to separate after that,” she reasoned, withdrawing her hand.

Orm fixed her with a hard expression, “Because it’s a bad plan.”

”It’s not a bad plan if it keeps us one step ahead of him,” she maintained.

“If it were to work it would be because we’re lucky, not because it’s a good idea.”

Elara sighed, “We’re not going to agree on this are we?”

He held her gaze, a muscle twitching in his neck as he answered, “No, we are not.”

They were getting nowhere and Elara knew it, knew it just like she knew that their attacker grew closer to finding them each moment they argued. She knew Orm had a point and her idea was extremely risky but she felt they needed to take a risk in order to turn this situation around.

Breaking their staring contest, she closed her eyes briefly and took a breath before meeting his stare again, asking in a steady, straightforward tone, “Do you trust me?”

There was a noticeable shift to his features at her question, he hadn’t expected that at all.

She knew she’d hit him with a curve-ball and so took the pressure off him answering immediately by continuing, “I know it would be dangerous and I can’t tell if this is the right call or not but it feels right. I’ve spent so long trying to hone my intuition as an asset in tidewatching and right now my gut is telling me that this is the right call. I don’t want to see anything happen to you and the longer we debate this the more likely that he’ll find us before we’re ready. I’m not asking you to like the plan, but can you trust me in this?”

Orm looked away from her. Trust was not an easy thing for him these days. In the wake of Mera’s and Vulko’s betrayals he’d found it hard to trust anyone. He believed in his mother but after her long absence and assumed death, he wasn’t sure he could fully trust her. And here was Elara asking for that which he had so little of in anything. For a long time now it had been his instinct to not trust anyone, to only put his faith in himself and the resilience of Atlantis.

And yet, he’d already trusted her visions. Based on all she’d ever done in regards to him, even their contentious first encounter, she’d been steady and true. Just this week she had risked indignation and disbelief from her king to tell Arthur, who knew little of the tides, her vision of Orm’s death to protect him.

She’d left behind her home and people to keep him safe by coming up here with him. She would follow his lead when needed but wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and contradict him if she needed to. She had spent this whole week trying to help him and she’d yet to do anything to hurt him. She confused the hell out of him at times but she trusted him and at least minimally, seemed to care for him. He could do this one thing for her. Maybe he could trust just this one time or just this one person.

“I still don’t like this,” He finally sighed, returning her gaze once more. “But I’ll trust you to get us out of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh heh heh. gosh this story is such a ride to write. I'll have you know this chapter was such a challenge to write but in the best way. I just kept writing and writing and then realized I needed to break it up some cuz it was hella lengthy so I've already got a decent chunk of ch14 already written.  
> So back when I restructured this fic to be Orm/OC instead of a reader fic I wrote out an outline of things I wanted to happen and it's been so much fun to finally get to this bullet point. I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort so I had to sneak a little in there. But like developing the relationship can be so hard to find the right balance but I hope y'all are enjoying the pace of things and their bonding as much as I am.  
> As always, comments are love!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay but I’ve been chipping away at this chapter for awhile. Thank you all for you patience! Enjoy!  
> EDIT: I'd had a slight error in this chapter in terms of describing Elara's height but thanks to the sharp eyes of Aria, that inconsistency has been corrected. Thank you!!!

 

_ “I still don’t like this,” He finally sighed, returning her gaze once more. “But I’ll trust you to get us out of this.” _

-

Elara did her best to hide her surprise and gratitude. She could tell this was not an easy feat for him and she wanted so very much to make sure he knew she didn’t take this for granted. She wanted nothing more than to bask in this moment, in this very high compliment of his trust but there wasn’t time for that.

She couldn’t help but smile only a little at him as she did her best to move forward with their discussion, “Okay, so we’re reasonably sure that he’s after you, but since we’re not sure how  he’s tracking us, we’ve got to come up with some sort of way to lure him to where we want him to go.”

“You’re suggesting one of us lead him away and the other be waiting to attack him?” He clarified. If he was going to go along with this ludicrous proposal he wanted to be sure they did it right.

“Exactly. But I could use your help fine-tuning it, you’re better at this sort of strategizing than I am.”

She was flattering him and he knew it, no doubt trying to soften the blow of him agreeing to her idea or perhaps thank him for trusting her. And while what she said was true, she wasn’t exactly useless in such strategizing. With her knack for patterns and predictions she had skill all her own.

He leaned forward, shooting her an almost teasing look, “Let me guess, you think you should be the one to lead him to the ambush?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, “Yes, because it would be foolish to have the injured tidewatcher be the one attacking instead of the seasoned warrior.”

He just barely kept an eye roll contained. She was laying it on thick but he didn’t mind as much as he should.

“Alright, I think the key here is both to distract and mislead him enough so he doesn’t notice it’s just you he’s tracking while finding a more advantageous spot for an ambush of our own. Think you can sense that from here?”

She cocked her head, “That’s not the traditional use of the tides but it’s worth a shot.”

She closed her eyes and Orm couldn’t help but stare at her, trying not to second guess his decision to trust her. He wanted her to be right and wanted this to work out but he didn’t want her to get hurt even worse. She was one of the strongest and smartest people he knew but there are somethings that just came down to chance and chance could never be trusted.

Elara looked to him again, “I think I’ve got something.”

The cave system led out to series of cliffs and winding paths down to shore. If Elara could get back above the cave system onto the forest floor proper, she could stand a better chance at attracting the attention of the tracker. Meanwhile, Orm could continue through the caves to the cliffs and attack the man from there. Orm also comforted himself that if he heard any explosions or signs of a fight from up above he could climb out of the caves and come to Elara’s aid. It wasn’t a perfect plan but it would have to do.

They found a smaller section of cave ahead of them where the roof was much lower and there were ledges that Elara could could ascend to get up above. Wariness was seeping through Orm as he ran through the plan in his mind again, looking for any way to better guarantee success but he knew they’d already done the best they could. All that was left was to act before they lost their window for surprise.

Orm just couldn’t shake this sense of dread at them splitting up. While it wasn’t especially productive, he felt responsible for her and could only assume that it was a hold over from being king. As king, he’d been responsible for the safety and well being of a whole kingdom but since his flight from Atlantis, his purview of citizenry had been reduced to a kingdom of one. Travelling with Elara was nothing like ruling a kingdom and he would be a fool to try to command let alone rule someone like Elara, but that compulsion to protect had not gone away. Right now, that impulse was especially strong considering she was only up here in harm’s way on his behalf.

He knew that this was their best shot at getting out of this scrape but he wasn’t sure what he would do if something serious happened to her when he wasn’t there to watch her back. As a ruler and a warrior, he’d always prided himself for his ability to distance himself from his emotions to make the hard calls. And yet, doing the same now was harder than it should be.

Elara, meanwhile, was rechecking her bandages which Orm had expertly dressed, and feeling out their path and plan in the tides for any last minute adjustments. She was confident in her decision and in her plan but the execution of it was still daunting. She and Orm had left behind their people when they’d left Atlantis, and something in Elara resisted the idea of splitting from Orm. It felt like once they separated, she’d be truly alone. Elara had to take a breath to steady herself. She had to believe in herself, in Orm, and in the tides to see them through.

She looked to Orm now, trying not to overthink things. He met her gaze calmly and gave her a small nod, as if to reinforce his trust in her. He trusted her enough to believe they could get through this. It was a small thing, but it helped. It made her feel like, even if they were not going through this next bit of their journey together, he was with her in this struggle.

“Give me a boost?” She asked him, tilting her head up to the hole in the roof. There was no point in asking if he was ready, they had to be.

He knelt down, making  a cradle with his hands to give her a step up. She put her foot in place and then grabbed onto his shoulders to leverage herself up, she then very slowly, careful of her injured side, stepped from his hands to the next ledge up. Once his hands were free, he extended one against the small of her back to keep her from tilting back while he held the other out in case she started to tip.

Cautiously she climbed the small rocky outcropping until she stood on the forest floor, looking down to see Orm down below. She wanted to tell him to be safe but worried he might find it condescending, instead she just raised a hand in farewell and said, “See you soon.”

He nodded, swallowing down anything else he might say and simply repeated her, making it sound more like a promise. “See you soon.”

Elara gazed down at him for another few seconds before straightening her back and turning away from the hole to begin her trek to the ambush spot. They needed to be quick about things now.

Following suit, he turned to follow his own path in the tunnels, careful to make as little noise as possible, finding small comfort in hearing the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs as Elara made her own way up above. For the first part of the journey, he could walk roughly parallel to her and could hear if anything went wrong but in some places the tunnels veered away and deeper under the surface. 

Orm could still see because he was used to seeing in the depths of the ocean, but he didn’t linger long enough to make any comparisons between the two. He was swift and efficient, prioritizing speed over everything else. This risky plan would only work if he either kept pace with Elara up above or beat her to the rendezvous point. His tactical mind was always planning several steps ahead and prone to envisioning the worst so that he could plan around it but he was very careful to keep those possibilities out of his mind’s eye.

He couldn’t properly strategize what he would do if he was too late but it wasn’t something he could wrap his head around and still be productive. Following his earlier advice to Elara, he just focused on his breathing as he navigated the winding path she’d laid out for him. He’d worry later.

Elara, meanwhile, was having perhaps more difficulty with her path through the constantly changing and rocky terrain due to her side constantly hitching and stinging with the exertion. The one benefit to their plan was that she didn’t have to worry about how much noise she made. In fact, it was best if she attracted some attention. 

The tides gave no indication of pursuit but they had a different energy than she’d felt throughout the rest of the day. Earlier all she’d been able to feel was an angry, uncomfortable buzzing. The tides had been oppressive and intent on making her aware of the threat, but now, while they still hummed and remained taut with the presence of the hunter, it felt less threatening. And that, abstract as it may be, enforced to her that she’d made the right call with this plan. The swells of the tide felt more manageable and it made her feel like they could get through this.

As their paths diverged she found herself latching onto Orm’s tides as she felt him on his own path. She tried to tell herself it was just a precaution but there were nerves there that were hard for her to name. 

If this had been a week ago when they’d first come to the surface, she might have expected him to make a beeline for the ocean and return to Atlantis, but she didn’t fear that from him now. He seemed to show real concern and even at times, a deference for her gifts. She liked to imagine that he might care for her but even if that wasn’t the case, he was smart enough not to try to go his own way in this situation, especially considering how against the idea of splitting up he had been. No, they would find each other again.

Even as she thought this, she felt the tight thread of their attacker pulse with his approach. She quickened her pace, it would not do for him to catch up before she was at the appropriate point. Orm seemed to be right on track, but she had to speed up.

Elara’s main concern was that she could sense the approach of the attacker but she couldn’t be completely sure if he was following her or Orm and it was difficult to narrow in on that particular pattern while maintaining her current speed. She let everything go except focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and the tides around her. In this focused manner she could feel the intent of their pursuer and tried to use that to hone in on their location. This, again, wasn’t the traditional use of the tides but sort of a variant of the battle tides Zult had taught her.

And there, there he was, following her progress and closing in. The tides showed that the man had caught her trail would probably catch up with her in less than five minutes. But that was too soon! She didn’t think she’d get to the cliffside rendezvous point for another ten minutes. She dropped the thread of the tides and put all of her efforts into increasing speed. If she could just get their faster, maybe Orm would hear the commotion if she was attacked.

With this in mind, feeling the tension getting tighter around her, she thought of one other option though it was a long shot. Tidewatchers could communicate by mentally manipulating the tides around them and sending images or feelings to other Tidewatchers. If this had been A’bree or Calysa, she wouldn’t have hesitated but she wasn’t sure if Orm would even feel it or know what it meant if she tried to send him a message the same way. Back when she was a novice and first instructed in this way, it had felt exceptionally foreign and hard to pick up in the beginning. It was a skill that had to be honed meticulously through extended awareness in the tides and how their patterns naturally flowed.

Only because they’d had such a heightened awareness and prolonged exposure to each other did Elara even think it stood half a chance. She kept it simple, focusing more on emotions like urgency and danger and then wrapped them around the image of where she saw the attacker catching up with her and then sent them down the tides to Orm. She kept up that routine while running until her side ached. Her injury begged her to slow down but she had to give herself every chance she could for this to work.

She’d been at this grueling pace for a few minutes when she heard the crashing behind her and knew she was almost out of time. She scanned the forest around her for any coverage she could find. The terrain had become hilly and pocked with boulders in places where the tunnel system met the forest floor. She couldn’t hope to make it to the original ambush spot but she could at least make herself less of an easy target. Ducking behind the boulders, she pulled her knives from her boots and strategized. 

She covered what distance she could, trying to stay out of view while constantly sending her message along the tides to Orm. The crunching of the underbrush grew louder until she no longer felt like she could risk leaving the cover of the trees and rock formation she was leaning against. Like it or not, this was gonna be where she had to make the most of things. About 12 feet ahead of her was a sudden opening to the caves beneath which would be her goal for her plan. It was a bit of a drop, about 20 feet so she had a reasonable chance of injuring or delaying him if she could throw him in there.

A slight rustle on the other side of her cover told Elara her time was almost up. She focused on her location and her connection to Orm, this time sending the word “hurry” down the line and prayed he could interpret what she’d sent. She adjusted her grip on her blades and tensed for the fight. Then he was there, a man all in black, passing right beside her with his large, unwieldy cannon, his eyes fixed ahead, searching for her. She did not wait.

Elara leapt for the man, and used her one chance at surprise to rip the cannon from him and toss it as far as she could behind them. Then she swung a dagger with her other hand. She may have stripped him of his weapon but he was far from helpless and blocked her knife easily enough.  

She tried again with the other blade and managed to graze his arm before he knocked her back. She stumbled against the rock she’d hid behind but was quick to launch herself off it, aiming to move them closer to the hole.

The shock wearing off, and showing anger at the wound, the man switched to the offensive. It was only through the tides that she was able to keep up with him. She wasn’t especially short but he had several inches on her and with her exhaustion, she could feel the disadvantage more. She’d been trained to use her size to an advantage against large adversaries and she would be using every trick in the book she had. At least he wasn’t so very large. While tall, he was lean, but also built and knew how to fight.

He was quick to catch one of her knives mid-strike and wrest it from her. She allowed him to push her back by several feet because it took them closer to the pit. She tried to keep aware of the small hole behind her, lest she fall in it herself, but it was all she could do to keep up with him. She was worn out already from her hurried trek here and her side burned with each strike and dodge. If the man was tired from his pursuit of them at all, he didn’t show it. His blows were relentless and while she avoided several, he still got in several good hits.

He swung with her knife to her right and while she was able to block it, he surprised her with a sucker punch to the left, hitting her right where the splinter had struck. Air gusted out of her and she couldn’t help her wince of pain.

She didn’t know if he’d known about her injury before but from the way his eyes lit up as he saw blood begin to seep through the bandage, he certainly did now. In any other situation she would have sighed. She didn’t need to be a tidewatcher to know this was going to hurt.

He was a skilled fighter and his strength and size were enough to nearly overwhelm her. She tried her best to protect her side but he still got in another good punch. Her only consolation was they were getting closer to the cave opening but with each strike dealt and dodged, she began to worry she wouldn’t have the strength to get him down there without falling in herself.

They were probably 5 feet from the hole when, while attempting to dodge a vicious kick from the man, Elara stepped back only to lose her footing on the uneven terrain and fall to the ground, sending the knife she had left, flying from her grip. The man made for her with his blade so Elara made a quick roll out of the way, dislodging rocks around her. One rock skittered and fell straight in the hole.

His eyes followed the movement and seemed to finally notice the pit, his eyes narrowed and then fell on Elara with vicious anger as he seemed to grasp her plan. He brought his foot up as if to stomp on her and she clenched her fists and held her bent arms in front of her and, grunting, shoved his foot back with the backs of her forearms.

The action temporarily threw him off balance enough for her to scramble to the side, sitting up from where she’d fallen. She made to sweep his legs out from under him to bring him to her level. He barely sidestepped her kick but was knocked a bit closer to the pit with the move. Before she could try again, he dove for her again with her knife. Using her angle to her advantage, she struck him in the wrist from below and he lost his grip on the knife, sending it up and out of reach. It was too far to be of use to either of them now but at least she’d managed to keep him from using it. They were hardly evenly matched as they were but it helped to tilt the scales just a little bit more in her favor.

Barely deterred by the loss of the dagger, her then brought his arm down on her shoulder. She barely managed to remain sitting but was too distracted by the pain to search the tides for his next move. He continued his lunge with both his hands extended. Before she could block, his hands were around her neck. Her hands scrambled at his, but could find no purchase against his gloves.

“Where is he?” the man finally spoke, grunting as he held her.

Some distant part of her brain commented on the stupidity of starting an interrogation while choking her, but the majority of her was focused more on staying alive.

She made no effort to answer him. Even if she did have full use of her respiratory system, she wouldn’t breathe a word about where Orm was to this brute.

His grip was of steel as she choked and gasped against his grip. She then made to claw at his face, but he was too tall and his arms too long for her to reach his eyes. Finally, her vision beginning to swim, she brought her knee up as hard as she could against his groin.

Finally, he faltered, wincing. It was enough for her use her other leg to kick one of his legs loose, knocking him to the ground beside her. Elara barely had time to catch her breath as the attacker fell. Winded and aching as she was, Elara held no illusion that she could knock him into the cave at this point, she just had to get away from him. 

She turned over, crawling blindly forward before trying to stand. The man recovered quickly however and grabbed hold of her ankle, dragging her back down.

She tried to kick back behind her but he avoided it quickly enough and was soon upon her, shoving her onto her back roughly. And then he was on top of her, one arm crossed across her shoulders to keep her down and his knees restraining her legs, lest she try kicking again.

Her hands scrambled at his arm as he brought his free hand down on her injured side. She yelled in pain.

“Where is he?” The man repeated.

She responded by trying to punch him before he moved to hold both her hands down.

“Where is Aquaman?” he shouted, clearly frustrated.

That made Elara pause in confusion, croaking out, “Wait, what?”

The attacker never got a chance to elaborate as he was suddenly thrown off of her. And there was Orm, punching him squarely in the face.The man made to sucker punch Orm in the gut but Orm dodged it with ease. Elara’s sense of the tides was lessened by her weakened state but she could have sworn she detected a storm of rage radiating off of Orm. 

Through a combination of fatigue from his bout with Elara and Orm’s strength of battle prowess, the attacker’s reactions were more sluggish, barely blocking or landing any hits against Orm.  He leaned back, looking like he was winding up for a strike but Orm beat him to the literal punch, landing a hit right in the man’s face.

Blood blossomed from the man’s nose and before he could recover, Orm hit him hard in the stomach, effectively winding him before landing another face punch. Elara could see the exact moment consciousness left the man, a second before he swayed and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Careful of her injuries, she sat up and just stared at Orm, some emotion she couldn’t name filling her. He turned slowly to look down at her, holding out a hand to help her up.

Taking his hand, she couldn’t stop her voice from cracking, both from feeling and pain as she said, “You came.”

He pulled her up swiftly and surely, the motion only straining her side slightly. Once standing, she didn’t think, she just stepped forward and hugged Orm. He tensed immediately in surprise but, as her arms wrapped around him, she could feel it as he relaxed into her before, hesitantly, he brought his arms up to return the embrace.

She wanted to ask if he’d heard her through the tides, wanted to say how scared she’d been, but instead she just whispered against his shoulder, “Thank you”

He tightened his hold on her just slightly as he said, “You’re welcome.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this one took so long. I’m so bad at writing fight scenes so it was a struggle. Logistics are hard y’all. Anyway, many thanks and hugs if you’ve made it this far on this journey. Comments are love!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, look at that, I’m back and it hasn’t been a month! Let’s just say I was touched that people were still reading and was motivated to come back sooner. This chapter’s shoutouts go to Pri_Chan1410, Guest, Chersimmy, Cherru128, and IllegalCerebral with a special mention to Aria for really inspiring me to not wait so long.  
> I’m so happy to be back and this time with answers!

 

_ She wanted to ask if he’d heard her through the tides, wanted to say how scared she’d been, but instead she just whispered against his shoulder, “Thank you” _

_ He tightened his hold on her just slightly as he said, “You’re welcome.” _

-

 

Orm hadn’t wanted to let go of Elara.

When he’d first seen her being attacked, some angry primal part of him took over. He may have cause to feel protective of her but he couldn’t begin to grasp the scope of the rage that had gripped him when he’d seen her being hurt. He knew they’d done the only thing that they could have but that did nothing to quell the sour feeling in his gut that kept telling him he could have done something better.

Holding her, he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that she sought any sort of comfort from him. At the same time he was grateful for physical reassurance that he had made it in time, that he hadn’t failed the one person who was still in his reach.

Slowly, she let him go so she could sit down and recover a bit while he worked to clean up after the fight. Namely, retrieve weapons and find something to tie up their attacker with. Elara said she was fine and she may have even meant it once she’d had the chance to catch her breath but she couldn’t say she wasn’t hurt. She’d walked a little stiffly on her left leg and now sat with it held out at an odd angle. They’d also had to redress her side as she’d bled through the last one. And most infuriating for Orm, there were angry bruises beginning to bloom on her neck that just made him taste bile.

He tried to focus on the tasks at hand but he couldn’t stop from looking up at Elara every few seconds, as if reassuring himself that nothing else would happen to her on his watch.

A few minutes later, after finishing the last knot of his improvised rope of vines, he stood from his crouch and sat a little space away from Elara on the crag of rocks she was perched on. While comforted by her presence beside him, he tried to focus on anything else other than the worry in his gut over the whole situation. “Have you learned anything else about him from the tides?”

Elara made a face as she repositioned her legs to face him better before answering, “No, but he said something odd when we were fighting. He kept asking me where Aquaman is. But I don’t even know who that is.”

Orm tried very hard not to groan as he answered, “Arthur; Arthur is Aquaman or at least that’s what the surface dwellers have taken to calling him anyway.”

“Why do you think he wants Arthur?” She asked.

Orm thought, a flicker of an old conversation swam to mind and he didn’t like what he found but at this stage of the game, there was no point in keeping it from Elara, not when he’d already told her the rest of the story.

“I think this man,” Orm said, gesturing to the unconscious, bound man beside him, “is working with the mercenary I told you about.”

He saw confusion cross her features so he elaborated, reluctantly, “The mercenary I paid to kill Arthur.”

Her eyebrows raised in recognition but, to his great relief, she showed no signs of disgust at the reminder of what he’d told her.

“That mercenary, who called himself the Black Manta, had said that Aquaman was responsible for his father’s death. And that,” Orm now pointed at the cannon he’d retrieved, “looks like its based on the weapon I’d given to him.”

Elara didn’t say anything at first, seeming to weigh what he’d said carefully. The wait was probably less than a minute but felt so very long and heavy to Orm. She didn’t appear to be immediately disgusted or surprised, only a slight squint of her eyes gave away any indication on how she took this news.

Finally she nodded to herself, as if filing it away before moving on in her typical efficient manner. “Okay, so we’re thinking that he’s working with this Black Manta.”

“Its stands to reason,” Orm said trying to remain unemotional. “But we’ll know for sure when he wakes up.”

“And that might be awhile.” Elara gave him a sly smile that he couldn’t help but feel grateful for, “Looks like someone was maybe too effective in their incapacitating.”

Orm allowed himself to return a small smile of his own, happier than he should be at her teasing. “Would you rather I had been less effective?”

“Not at all,” Her tone light but his eyes didn’t miss the way her throat clenched slightly nor the warm look she gave him, “protective is a good look on you.”

Now it was Orm’s turn to file that away for later. Given everything that had happened and how he felt the situation was largely his fault he had no idea how to process this.

He made to speak but for the life of him he didn’t know what to say to that so Elara spoke again, “Thank you again, Orm. Really. I knew I could count on you.”

Orm, cleared his throat. He really did enjoy hearing her speak highly of him, especially with such earnestness but it wasn’t right. Not with her injured as she was and the blame lying with him.

“You do know that if I’m right, and that even though they aren’t after me, this attack is my fault.” Orm said lightly, keeping his eyes averted from her, not wanting to see a change in her countenance.

“Really?” Elara asked, “I don’t remember you killing Black Manta’s father.”

Orm looked back at her at that, a light disapproving stare plain on his face but she met him with one of her own. She knew exactly what he meant but was being stubborn about it. A big part of him wanted to argue with her but she made it clear from the look on her face she wasn’t going to join Orm in blaming him for this no matter what he said. He’d learned well enough by now there was little hope in changing her mind once she’d set on something or, in this case, against something.

Orm finally just sighed, lacking the energy to fight. “Alright, fine, but we still don’t know how he found us.”

“Another question to ask when he wakes up,” Elara agreed before she cocked her head and looked at him, a strange light in her eyes. “Speaking of, how would you say you found me?”

Orm furrowed his brow, surprised by the change in conversation, then in confusion as he tried to think of how exactly he’d done it. “I...I don’t know. I just had this feeling like you were in danger. And I knew I had to hurry so I backtracked the above ground path until I saw him attacking you.”

He’d been looking at the ground as he’d thought but when he looked back at Elara, she had this very pleased and knowing look on her face. 

“I knew it!” she pointed at him enthusiastically, “You heard me.”

“What are you talking about?” He was very perplexed at her change in demeanor, though perhaps even slightly amused as well.

“When I figured out he was going to reach me before I got to the rendezvous point, I reached out to you with the tides,” she pointed at him again in an almost delighted manner, “and you listened.”

He paused, trying to figure out exactly how to process what she’d just said. “How...you… you used the tides to reach me? How did that work? I thought you had to be a tidewatcher to read the tides?”

She still had that excited smile as she watched him process it. 

“Normally yes, but that’s only because they are the ones with the training to really parse out the patterns and intricacies in the tides. Not all tidewatchers are born. It can be taught. And certain things are easier to get across. In this case, we’ve spent a lot of time in close quarters together so, whether you are aware of it consciously, your tides are more attuned to mine. It would be much harder to reach out to someone I’m not familiar with. But all of that could have led to nothing if you weren’t, on some subconscious level, open to the tides. And for that I’m very grateful.” 

As if to punctuate her point, she extended a hand to him, which he took nearly without thinking.

Then he just found himself staring at her as he tried to take it in. He’d never been well versed in the workings of tidewatching and hadn’t ever been especially curious enough to find out more but he’d always thought of some things to be set in stone. He’d always assumed that tidewatching was an ability like how Atlanteans could breath underwater- that it was a gift you were born with, not a skill you could learn. And yet, according to her, he had, at least to some degree, listened to the tides and doing so had saved Elara’s life.

She squeezed his hand and it felt like they were back on the couch that night he’d told her everything. Just like then, he was surprised to be holding her hand but he’d be damned if he would be the first to let go. This time he kept her gaze and it was a fierce and hopeful thing.

“I know that you think this whole mess is your fault and that all of this bad is because of you but you’re wrong. This isn’t all on you. Yes, you made bad choices and now we’re dealing with the consequences but you aren’t responsible for all of this. Arthur made his own choices and I’d be more than willing to bet that a good deal of this is back on Black Manta. He was a mercenary and I’m sure he had his share of blood on his hands and more mistakes than yours in his past. If I’ve learned anything from the tides, it’s that it takes more than one thrown stone to cause a tidal wave.”

Orm made to speak up, his eyes locked on the ugly bruises on her throat but she gave his hand a firm squeeze and recaptured his gaze with her hard amber eyes.

“No, listen to me. I know you are blaming yourself for what happened to me,” she motioned at her various injuries with her free hand. “But these are because of  _ my _ decision. I own my own part of this. No one ordered me to come up here, Arthur offered me an out but I wouldn’t take it. I decided to come up here with you because I believed it was the right thing to do and because I believed in you. And I still do. I do even more now than I did yesterday. You allowed yourself to be open enough to listen to the tides and because of that you were there when I needed you most. Do you honestly think you could have done that before you came up here?”

He sighed, his eyes tracing the shape of their hands intertwined. He’d always prided himself at being fairly eloquent and skilled at getting his point across, that paired with his status had meant that he’d very rarely ever lost an argument. He was, in fact, fairly certain that nearly all of the arguments he’d lost or had ended in a draw had either been held with Elara or his father. As for this particular this argument, well it was definitely joining the others in the lost column.

“No, I can’t say I could have,” he finally said, meeting her eyes once more. “But I guess Arthur was right when he said I’d learn things on the surface.”

She grinned at that. Little crinkles squinching at the corner of her eyes. Orm knew that given no other worries or responsibilities, he would have been happy to spend the rest of the day just like that. It was perhaps more sentimental than he was ever accustomed to thinking but who was to know?  He found himself enjoying the reassurance of her presence and her faith in him as she held his hand. But of course that was when a slight groan beside him disturbed the peace of the moment.

Elara slowly withdrew her hand from Orm’s  to look over his shoulder at their assailant.

“Looks like nap time is over,” she said as he followed her gaze to hide his disappointed expression. It was back to business.

Elara stayed where she was but Orm turned and stood to stand in front of the man. Given Elara’s injuries Orm hadn’t felt charitable enough to wipe the blood from the man’s face but as he slowly came to, while perhaps discombobulated, the man didn’t seem particularly surprised. Instead glaring up at Orm like he had any right to.

“Who are you?” Elara asked, wanting to get some things out of the way before the staring contest went into full swing.

The man continued to glare at Orm without speaking which Orm just wasn’t having. He took a couple steps back and then picked up the cannon and pointed it straight at the man.

“The lady asked you a question,” was all he said.

Elara wanted to roll her eyes. Threatening a man with a cannon for ignoring her was hardly what she would call a restrained approach but, given his reaction to her injuries, she got the feeling that this was restrained for Orm so she let it slide. Plus, it did have results.

Not looking away from the angry Atlantean with a cannon, the man answered grudgingly, “Henrik Garrison.”

“Thank you Henrik,” Elara replied, slightly amused that she and Orm were, as the surface dwellers would call it, playing good cop/bad cop. “Who are you working for?”

She saw a slight muscle twitch in Orm’s neck and she knew what he was thinking. They were both reasonably certain that it was Black Manta but she thought it was better to be fully informed than simply trusting guesswork. 

Either Orm was still convincingly glaring at him or his loyalties were not exactly strong because Henrik was quicker to answer, “David Kane.”

“Also known as the Black Manta?” Elara asked.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Henrik replied with a slight hint of disdain which interested Elara but obviously wasn’t the most important thing right now.

“Why were you after us?” she asked, ticking off her mental list of loose ends.

“I wasn’t,” he said with a degree of frustration. Elara got the feeling he wasn’t used to losing.

“Right then,” she said when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, “why were you after Aquaman?”

Henrik was clearly regretting revealing that tidbit even though he’d thought he had the upper hand at the time.

When he didn’t answer, Elara tried another tack. “What, you’re really willing to die for another man’s vendetta? You seem smarter than that.”

Henrik met her eyes for the first time. His stare was angry but perhaps less at her than she might have expected.

“I don’t care about who killed who. I’m in it for the money.”

“Alright then, where’s the money coming from?” she asked.

At Henrik’s hesitation Orm tightened his grip on the cannon and though Elara couldn’t see his face she had a feeling he had some sort of expression that conveyed how willing and enthusiastic he was to hurt Henrik with the weapon without even bothering to fire a blast.

Henrik was quick to look back at Elara, “There’s this doctor helping Kane- Dr. Shin. He wants to find Aquaman to prove that Atlantis exists and are the cause of all that garbage washing up on shore along with all the other weird ocean shit that’s been happening.”

Elara looked to Orm to see his shoulders instantly tense but neither of them said anything. Henrik clearly didn’t know that it was Orm which very likely meant that this Dr. Shin didn’t know and if Kane knew or figured it out then he hadn’t told the others. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something Elara felt she could ask about without drawing more attention to it. She could very easily seeing Henrik selling this information to Dr. Shin if they were to tell him. 

“If you were looking for Aquaman, how did you find us?” She decided to ask instead as it was the next big pressing issue.

Henrik seemed to internally squirm again and she got the feeling that he was much more used to being on the asking end of such interrogations. 

“Would you prefer I ask?” Orm said, speaking for the first time since their interrogation had begun.

A twitch on Henrik’s face told Elara that if his head weren’t still wringing from where Orm had clocked him, he’d very likely say something very very derogatory but, fortunately for his sake, he kept it to himself. The mercenary then very pointedly looked to Elara, ignoring Orm as if this was some kind of defiance instead of giving them what they wanted. As far as Elara was concerned, he could believe whatever he wanted as long as he answered their questions.

Henrik focused on Elara, “Listen, I don’t know the science of it all, and I didn’t care enough to find out but the doctor was always going on about new ways to detect and find Aquaman. He said something about picking up some kind of pheromone or signature wherever Aquaman had been. So he rigged up this scanner to focus on that and Kane sent us out to scan different parts of the oceans he deemed Aquaman most likely to appear in. I just happened to pick up on you two but I thought you’d be Aquaman and that redhead chick from before.”

Elara wasn’t sure she’d ever hear Mera, Princess of Xebel and most likely the future queen of Atlantis ever referred to as ‘that redhead chick’ but given Henrik’s compromised morality, she supposed it could have been worse. Also it was perhaps better that he didn’t know her title or importance. And as far as tracking methods it could have been worse but it also could have been better. At least they somehow hadn’t missed someone planting a device on them but the fact that it was some kind of natural frequency they gave off was problematic. But that obviously wasn’t a problem they were going to discuss with this muscle for hire.

“Did you tell anyone you found us?” Orm asked.

“No.” Henrik said more petulantly than Elara would have to a man holding a cannon to his face.

“Why not?” Orm said, rightfully dubious.

“We only get paid on delivery.” Henrik answered.

“And let me guess,” Elara said, stepping back in, “You didn’t want to risk anyone else beating you to it and the money.”

“Something like that,” Henrik replied as grudging as ever.

Orm took another step closer, careful not to get too close but close enough that the threat in his eyes was clear to see, “For your sake, that better be true.”

“It is,” Henrik bit out, matching Orm’s anger with his own.

“You have a vessel?” Orm asked.

“What makes you think I do?” Henrik challenged.

Orm just continued to stare at him, unphased. Though Elara was unsure if Henrik knew they were Atlanteans, through his tracking he had to have gotten some clue at how fast they swam. He wasn’t fooling anyone with his claim that he could keep up with them without some kind of ship.

And from the impressions she got from him in the tides, he definitely had one.

“Where is it?” She asked not even bothering to pretend with him.

Henrik glared at her this time but it didn’t have nearly the same bite as his glares to Orm. “Just offshore from where I shot you.”

“Thank you, Henrik.” She said, trying to think if there were any other questions she had left. When she couldn’t think of any instead she said, “Can I make a personal suggestion?”

He continued his glare but she didn’t let it phase her, “find a less dangerous line of work. Find money elsewhere. You’ll find nothing more pleasant than this if you continue hunting the Aquaman.”

She honestly didn’t think he’d listen to her but best she try to ward him off this foolish venture. Orm was less ruthless than he once was but she had little question that, if given the slightest reason and opportunity in the future, he would be far less gentle that a quick knockout and some glares.

“Noted,” Henrik said but Elara seriously doubted he actually did.

“Any further questions?” Orm asked, turning back briefly to look at Elara.

“No, I think that’s it.” She answered.

“Good,” Orm said then swiftly knocked Henrik back out with the butt of the cannon.

“Well that was blunt." Elara said simply. 

"Would you have preferred I be more delicate with our good friend Henrik the mercenary who just tried to kill us?"

Elara raised her hands in surrender,  "I'm not saying that. That's just not how I tend to end most conversations."

Orm snorted and put down the cannon again.

“What are we going to do with that anyway?” Elara asked motioning to it.

“We can’t take it with us,” Orm decided looking at the bulky thing before deciding, “We should destroy it. It’s unlikely to be their only such weapon but we can’t leave it here for Henrik or anyone else to abuse.”

Elara looked to the device, “How do you propose we do that? Drop it off a cliff?”

“Perhaps as a final step but I recommend we be more thorough. Given the unstable nature of it that we saw earlier, I should be able to destabilize its power source with the help of one of your knives. Then I recommend smashing it and then throwing it off the cliff.” He said all this very critically as he thought.

Elara wanted to tease him for such a thorough methodology but given the damage this could do and the responsibility he no doubt still felt that it even existed, she decided against it, instead settling for, “Alright, then what?”

“Then we should see about his ship, move or deactivate it if we can and then see if we can find a village with a doctor that can look at your injuries,” he spoke matter-of-factly and yet still very much managed to surprise Elara.

She didn’t know if she could have predicted him ever suggesting going to the surface dwellers for help of any kind. She wasn’t opposed to the idea, she just wanted to be sure he was sure.

“Are you sure? I’ve still got my salve and I will heal in a few days time,” she said. She was in a fair amount of pain but nothing her advanced Atlantean healing couldn’t handle.

He nodded gravely, “We need more bandages anyway and I want to be certain that there wasn’t anything I missed when cleaning it. It will take more time and rest to heal if it’s infected.”

Elara decided to not make a deal out of it. It was very big of Orm to suggest it and she certainly wouldn’t be the one to try to dissuade him from it, “Alright then. Let’s get started.”

Orm had taken the trouble to retrieve her daggers from where they’d fallen in the fight and made quick work of the cannon. While throwing it off the cliff was more dramatic and final, they decided it was more expeditious, not to mention more environmentally-friendly to simply trigger it to short circuit and explode. It took a little bit of doing but ultimately he rigged it to go off at the bottom of a cave. There were still a few singed bits and chunks but nothing anyone would be able to reconstruct into anything meaningful or destructive.

As for Henrik, they decided to leave him where he was tied up. Elara had little doubt that an industrious guy like him would be able to eventually free himself of his bonds and find his own way off the island. Elara had a sinking suspicion that they hadn’t seen the last of him but she’d done what she could.

Orm knew that if this had been before his dethroning he would have killed Henrik with little remorse. And while it was certainly a permanent way of insuring they would never have to worry about him, he knew it was the wrong way. If he wanted to make better choices and be the kind of person that deserved the faith that Elara put in him, he couldn’t think like that. As it was, he sincerely considering breaking the mercenary’s leg to slow him down. But again, he wasn’t that person anymore and he knew Elara would frown on severely injuring an unarmed man.

From there they returned to the beach and sought out Henrik’s ship. It was a small, utilitarian sort of hybrid sub. Clearly meant for stealth, speed, and battle. After gleaning what limited information they could from the on-board computer, they disabled the sub’s tracking device. From there, they worked to locate the reader Henrik had mentioned that had focused in on their Atlantean signature. It was a small device and, though surface dweller technology was not exactly in either of their wheelhouses, Elara did her best to disengage it from the sub. She was fairly certain that it didn’t have a gps transmitter of its own and thought it best to take it with them for further study.

After that and some experimentation with the navigation they piloted the sub back to the mainland where they'd have a better chance at a decent doctor but far south of Tulum to avoid tracking. And then for good measure they sunk the sub far off shore. 

Elara had worried that a surface doctor would ask too many questions or require an appointment or insurance but the small clinic in the port town they landed at hardly blinked an eye at their wet clothes and her strange injuries. Indeed they weren't even the worst injuries in the clinic. This was troubling to Orm but Elara knew better than to question their no questions attitude. At least they were helping. 

As Elara allowed the harried woman to examine her, with Orm just outside, she began to feel a familiar tugging from the tides. Elara had a suspicion but refrained from pulling on that particular thread until they had left the clinic. They were quiet as they left the clinic, new bandages, ointment and a prescription she would never fill tucked away in her bag.

They’d planned to grab something to eat and plan out their next move. Elara had picked out a little taco stand down the street from the clinic and the two waited and placed their orders. All the while, Elara was slowly pulling at that little thread in the tides. It wasn’t until they were sitting down and eating that she finally entangled it and heard the words trapped inside.

_ “You’re back up on the surface and not even saying hello? For shame little one. And I see you’ve gotten yourself into a spot of trouble as well. Why don’t you bring your Prince to come see me, and maybe I can help you two out with your little quest.” _

She put down her taco as a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun filled her. Orm looked up to see a smile on her face.

“What?”

“I got a message in tides,” She replied.

Orm, whose limited experience with tide messages all involved warnings and portents of doom was perhaps a touch wary at such a proclamation. And yet Elara’s smiling face held no hint of any reservations and he supposed that had to count for something.

“Who’s it from?” he finally asked, putting his food down as well.

“Madren,” Elara answered with a wider grin. 

She enjoyed watching the emotions play across Orm’s face as he pieced together all of the tidbits Elara had told him about her. Madren was a wise and experienced tidewatcher, a Watcher who was friends with Vulko, one of the elders who taught the tides on the surface, and perhaps most worryingly to him anyway, the one who had introduced Elara to alcohol which had been a blessing and a curse when he and Elara had dabbled with it.

“Madren messaged you,” Orm clarified, equal parts apprehensive and intrigued.

“Yep,” Elara said. “And she wants to meet you.”

Orm stared back at Elara, completely unsure if that was a good or a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say that that was my first interrogation scene so like please cut me some slack.  
> As far as this chapter goes I just loved as usual playing with the dynamic and growing relationship between Elara and Orm, this is my first proper slow burn and it’s been a joy to watch it grow. And real talk I was so glad to finally be able to name the mercenary. I got real sick of having to call him ‘the man’ or ‘the attacker’ for like 2 and a half chapters. XD  
> Also I just have to say that I really love Orm and Elara and I’ve really enjoyed writing their journey so far and it’s far from over. I know I can kind of drag things out and the long waits in between updates can make it seem longer but like I want to give this story the proper space to develop at a pace that feels right to me and I appreciate all of you for hanging in there with me with each chapter. It makes coming back each time more worth it.  
> And finally muahahaha I’m so excited for next chapter! I’ve been planning on introducing Madren in the flesh for awhile now and I can’t wait for y’all to meet her.  
> Until next time! ;D


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dears! I'm so happy to be back! thank you so much for your patience. I am determined to not give up on this story but sometimes I just have less time than others. But I'm delighted to have finally cobbled together enough time to finish this chapter. If y'all are ever curious about my progress, i can post about my writing of this fic over at oceanmastertrash on tumblr. you can always holler at me there if i'm gone longer than usual.  
> Also, full disclosure, I’m one of those people who will sit there researching lakes and depths all over central and south america and then get worried about travel for my characters and work myself up about whether its realistic or not that Madren is one the same continent they hid out on. And you know what all that got me? My best friend telling me to chill out and that coincidences and an amount of fantasy and unlikeliness is allowed. And that helped. So if i’m inaccurate, it’s because I've never been to these places, am trying to prioritize productivity and if i didn’t any more research i would have ended up head-desking. Bless. And now finally to the fic again and at last!

_“Madren messaged you,” Orm clarified, equal parts apprehensive and intrigued._

_“Yep,” Elara said. “And she wants to meet you.”_

_Orm stared back at Elara, completely unsure if that was a good or a bad thing._

-

According to Elara, Madren was currently running the Tidewatcher sanctuary in Guatemala. Orm would have preferred to just swim there but, also according to Elara, there were a couple obstacles to that plan. First and foremost the sanctuary was on the opposite coast of Central America than their current location in Belize. Secondly, given what Henrik had told them about the tracking method Black Manta and Dr. Shin were employing, it was in their best interest to stay on land for the time being.

Orm was apprehensive about leaving the shore entirely and fully immersing into life on the surface. The reality of tackling land travel was also something he had no experience with. Elara had some knowledge but she still had to use an internet cafe to nail down the details of their travel and acquired a cheap prepaid phone to better book their surface transportation.

She also changed out of her bloody garments so as to be less conspicuous. It did Orm better than he would like to admit to see her in her fresh clothes. Elara was not the sort to look fragile, wounded though she was, but it comforted him to see her look put back together in a sense. For her part, Elara took comfort in it, she still ached and smarted if she moved the wrong way but she felt less exposed without a literal gaping hole in her shirt.

Elara contemplated renting a car for their travels, as she did have some limited driving lessons but ultimately decided, given some of the weaving of the path, they’d be better off taking public transportation. It would be a long day and a meandering journey. Elara was certain that Orm would suffer quite a bit of frustration and annoyance from the surface dwellers but there was no way to avoid that at this point.

By now the sun was setting and they decided they would begin their journey in the morning. Elara found a motel for them. It was small and probably nowhere near the standards Orm was used to but it had two beds and he at least recognized their need for rest. Elara was exhausted and while her Atlantean healing and the meds from the clinic were helping with the pain of her injuries, she knew she needed some downtime to try to recuperate.

They stayed up a little while longer as Elara did her best to explain surface concepts like the bus system they’d be employing to get to Madren and the credit card she used for most of their purchases as well as her scant knowledge of the currencies she had. Orm thought it all more complicated than it should be but at her argument, conceded that Atlantis and all it’s kingdoms and politics would no doubt befuddle outsiders as well.

After their strenuous day, Elara fell asleep fairly quickly. Orm didn’t like the idea of them both sleeping at the same time surrounded by surface dwellers on all sides but Elara had insisted that the tides would wake her if anyone were to try anything and they should both rest while they can. Orm struggled with this idea. Letting his guard down was not anything that came easy to him, especially not considering they’d already been attacked that day by a surface dweller.

Ultimately though, fatigue won out and Orm fell asleep listening to the sound of Elara breathing. It wasn’t the most restful sleep by far but it was more than he’d expected. It was not particularly lengthy either, because before too long, they were woken by an annoying melody from the cell phone Elara had purchased. It was an alarm she’d set to ensure they would get up early enough to catch the bus. While such an alarm was useful, it was very irritating and Orm loathed it on principle.

They grabbed something to eat at a nearby cafe and then waited at the bus station. Elara had explained that the bus system they were using had many other stops on the way until it eventually stopped closer to the center of Guatemala where they would then catch a smaller bus for a short stint to the town closest to the Tidewatcher sanctuary. There weren’t as many people getting on the bus this early but Elara knew they would have a lot of contact with a lot of people by the time the day was over.

Elara had booked them on one of more luxury liners instead of what the locals referred to as ‘chicken busses’ which ran more locally and, well, had more livestock on board. Elara anticipated that they’d need to use them at some point but thought it best if they put it off for now; one thing at a time and all that.

The wait was short as those around them chatted in languages Orm didn’t understand. It was hard not to feel so very far from home in this moment. Perhaps Elara sensed this from the tides but she subtly shifted so her uninjured arm was pressed against his in a silent show of support. It was a small thing but it helped. If this had been a couple weeks ago he might have been perturbed by how well she could read him but then he supposed she wouldn’t be a very good tidewatcher if she wasn’t good at picking up things like that. She wouldn’t be able to keep them safe if she couldn’t sense something like a change in mood, that could mean everything in a surprise attack. And he had to note she’d never used this to manipulate him or use him, only to help them. He admired that about her.

 He was glad to let Elara take charge in the small things like where they sat. If nothing else, he was glad that he didn’t have to reveal further how little he knew of these things though he suspected she knew anyway. They sat towards the back and not very close to any other passengers so they could talk a little freer as long as they spoke quietly. She sat with her bad side to the window. It was going to hurt all day anyway but at least this way she wouldn’t have to worry about him accidentally elbowing her tender side or scraping her arm. She was careful how she held her arm so as not to rub it the wrong way but the bandaging and the jacket she wore helped insulate it more against aggravation. 

Once the bus was on its way they didn’t talk at first. While Orm acclimated to the feel of things on the road and amongst surface dwellers like this, Elara took the opportunity to get familiar with the flows of the tides for the bus and their route. As the whole bus had a hectic and chaotic atmosphere to it, she thought it best to get a feel for what patterns were normal for it so she could better spot what was irregular.

After some time had passed and nothing went wrong and no one bothered them, she could feel some of the edge had dissipated off of Orm. She figured now was a good time to try conversing with him to distract him. She’d also strategically let him take the aisle seat because she figured he’d feel more able to protect them that way even if she did not feel such actions would be necessary.

“So,” she began, turning to him, “what do you know about Madren?”

Orm resisted the urge to smirk, of course she would know he was curious about the old tidewatcher even if he hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t proud of it but the idea of meeting Madren intimidated him slightly. While he’d received reports from her during his reign, he’d never met her though he’d certainly heard stories from Vulko and the other Tidewatcher elders over the years. Combine that with all he’d heard from Elara since they’d come to the surface and Madren seemed a larger than life figure to Orm and one that left a profound impression. She was regarded by many as being exceedingly eccentric which Orm had always attributed to the fact that she’d spent several decades on the surface. She wasn’t the only Tidewatcher or Atlantean to maintain an outpost up above but she’d been topside longer than any other Atlantean he’d ever heard of.

She’d acclimated to her environment in unusual ways. When he’d been king, the tidewatcher council would regularly update him on reports from Madren. She could not only sense shifts of surface dweller politics through the tides but also witness it firsthand. She was an invaluable resource but a bit of a wildcard. He’d been content enough to let her stay up here as her intelligence was always timely. He could sense at times she disapproved of his war on the surface but she never interfered which suited him just fine. The same relations between Madren and the king of Atlantis had not always been the case when his father had been on the throne. It was not a subject Orvax had been inclined to speak of which had only served to make it a subject of curiosity for Orm.

“What can you tell me about Madren and my father?” he asked calmly.

Elara raised her eyebrows. That was not the question she had been expecting. “Well you clearly know something or else you wouldn’t ask. What have you heard?”

“Oh just the standard line Orvax circulated to the courts- that he banished her to the surface for her insubordination.” Orm answered with a wry grin, “and enough from Vulko to know that no one actually banished Madren.”

Elara shared a smug grin, “That he most certainly didn’t. Anyone who’s actually met Madren would know that she is not a woman to let anything but the tides tell her what to do. And even then she’ll argue and analyze it five ways to Sunday before consenting.”

“So what really happened?”

“I suppose the diplomatic answer would be that she resented the idea of being under his thumb and subject to his tempers and scrutiny,” Elara said after consideration.

“And the non-diplomatic answer?” he pressed.

“She was tired of his bullshit,” she said straight-face.

“Sounds like she taught you well on that count,” he replied slyly.

“That she did,” Elara agreed. “But the way she tells it, Orvax was a thousand times worse than you ever were. Madren was the best tidewatcher on the council and they both knew it. Madren wasn’t afraid to call him out on his ill-conceived schemes or throw the warnings of the tides in his face if things didn’t work out for Orvax. I don’t think he would have had problems if she was skilled and humble but she was abrasive and loud about it. He knew he couldn’t properly cut off contact with her because what results he saw and liked from the tides mostly came from her leads but he couldn’t abide her publicly contradicting and undermining him.”

“No,” Orm said quietly, “he certainly couldn’t.”

Elara could sense a bitterness and a history to that statement but also that it wasn’t something he was interested in exploring in depth at the moment so she moved on as nonchalantly as she could. “Madren’s no idiot and knew something had to give. Since the tides gave her no indication that Orvax was going to change and she knew she absolutely wasn’t going to, she decided she’d relocate as a sort of truce. Orvax wasn’t wild about her training others on the surface but ultimately agreed that it was preferable to her constantly embarrassing him down below.”

Orm found himself smiling. He enjoyed the way Elara told stories. He found himself content to simply watch how her eyebrows would quirk when she found something amusing and the way she’d gesture with her hands to make a point.  She was certainly more fascinating to watch than whatever was out the window at any rate.

“Everything that was said after she was gone was pure fiction made up to make Orvax sound better once Madren wasn’t in Atlantis to dispute him. All of us tidewatchers knew the truth but it didn’t really matter. Madren said the point was that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore so she was the real winner.” Elara gave an emphatic jab of her finger.

“What about after Orvax died? Why didn’t she come back then?” At this point Orm was just enjoying hearing her talk about it but he was still curious as to Madren’s continued presence on the surface. 

A small part of him wondered if Madren stayed away because she didn’t think Orm had been any better of a king than Orvax had. He couldn’t be sure though, it wasn’t as if he and Madren had ever butted heads. It could be different with Tidewatchers, but two people were usually required to have met before having a feud. Orm then felt a twang of unease at the idea that Madren had stayed away because she’d seen his future sins and decided he was just as bad as his father. It wasn’t entirely unwarranted but it also wasn’t an idea he liked to entertain.

Elara sensed a pang of anxiety from Orm but rather than address it she simply continued on. “She was formally invited back for the sake of appearances but she declined. I asked her about it a few years ago and she said that as much as she loved Atlantis, she’d come to love the surface too and she wanted to instill some of that love into the next generation of Tidewatchers. She saw enough ill will between land and sea in the tides but wanted to do what she could to abate it, to remind her fellow Atlanteans that there was much to love and protect up above. She taught me well in that regard too.”

Elara nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking down at their feet. Orm was hardly about to declare war against the surface again but she knew that her affection for this world above was still an aberration among her people. While she’d argued with Orm about attacking the surface while they were still in Atlantis, she never would have dared to reveal her fondness for it back then. If she had, he would have just rolled his eyes and condescended. 

He did none of those things now. In the brief glance she allowed herself to gauge his reaction, she could have sworn he smiled ruefully.

“Indeed she did,” he finally said quietly. Try as she might, she could sense no derision from the former king and that filled her with a quiet sort of gratitude.

It made sense to Orm. Elara had never shown the slightest hesitancy about coming to the surface. To being the one tasked with keeping him safe, perhaps, but she’d held no reservations for the surface. As comfortable as she was down below, there was an ease to her manner up here that some small part of him envied. He didn’t loathe it as he once had but now he was willing to admit that a lot of his discomfort stemmed from not understanding. He still hated their waste and how the people here took so much for granted but he could see hints of joy too. Though he would at least admit to himself that he might not have seen any without Elara’s influence.

A companionable silence fell between them for a time and Orm found himself thinking about his father and Madren. He might have once considered their relationship a mirror of his with Elara. Both Elara and Madren being the stubborn and defiant Tidewatcher while he and Orvax stood opposite as the haughty and proud king. How things had changed. It surprised him to realize that now he felt more kinship with Elara than he did with his father. 

His father might have thought he was doing what was right to make Orm the best ruler he could but that didn’t change the fact that Orvax was a cold and distant father. When he did express emotions for Orm it was more anger and frustration with occasional bursts of small pride. More proud of how he had molded Orm than of anything Orm had done for himself. And Orm had spent so long telling himself that it was alright. That Orvax knew what was best but a quiet doubt had always lingered after Orvax had ordered Atlanna’s death. Justify it as Orvax had, Orm had resented his father for robbing him of the one person whom he had known to actually love him. Altanna may have loved Arthur and missed her life on the surface but she had loved Orm fiercely and protectively. Doing her best to spare him the worst of Orvax’s wrath and raise Orm to be considerate and clever and thoughtful.

That was why Orm had never sent his commandos after Tom or Arthur before Arthur came to Atlantis. The rumors of Atlanna’s bastard had certainly plagued his rule as had the knowledge that Atllanna’s human family was what had led to her death and yet Orm had left them alone. He’d certainly been advised to silence the rumors and have the Currys killed but Orm had resisted. It was the only way he could think of to honor Atlanna’s memory. As much as he hated them for essentially taking his mother from him, he knew that Atlanna had loved Arthur and Tom so he’d left them alone. 

It was only when Arthur had come to Atlantis himself and challenged Orm’s right to rule that Orm could resist no longer. He was so close to achieving everything he’d been fighting so long for and he hadn’t been able to stand by and let Arthur challenge him. Add Mera’s betrayal and Orm was stung and retaliated in kind. Orm wasn’t proud of it now. Those had been the actions of a petty man who was hurt. Orm knew now how deeply he would have regretted it if his commandos had succeeded in killing Arthur and Mera.

As ashamed as Orm felt for some of his actions, Orm realized that if he hadn’t done what he had, he would not be where he was right now. The subject of a future assassination attempt, dethroned, and on the surface he’d spent so long despising: perhaps. But he was also sitting next to a befuddling, and bitingly clever Tidewatcher who had seen his worst mistakes and still believed in him and that wasn’t something Orm liked the idea of losing. Realizing this affected him in the most peculiar way. It was almost as if he'd recieved a shock.

Elara sensed it, of course she did, though he couldn’t be entirely sure if she felt it physically or through the tides. In any case, she had grown so accustomed to him that, minute as it was, she felt it and tore her gaze from the window to meet his eyes.

Concern played across her wonderfully expressive face and he could practically feel her scanning the tides for the source of the tremor.

“You alright?” She asked quietly, unconsciously leaning closer.

He had the absurd desire to lean in as well, just to be even closer to this startlingly lovely woman, but he kept himself in check, trying to school his features in the wake of such an idea.

“I’m fine,” he answered back just as softly. Not because he was worried about any of the other passengers hearing them but because he had the foolish notion that his realization was like a small, easily frightened animal- likely to flee at any loud sound or sudden motion. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, as gently but reserved as he could manage, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Elara could sense something had changed in Orm but, as fast as her heart was beating at their closeness and distracted as her thoughts were, she just couldn’t put her finger on what that change was.

“Thank me?”

“I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for coming up here with me.” He said, even though that barely scratched the surface of what he was grateful for in this current moment.

He was right; he hadn’t thanked her but, if Elara was being honest, she hadn’t expected him to. She wasn’t sure if that was selling the prince short or not but when all of this started he wasn’t feeling any sense of appreciation for any aspect of his glorified exile. His thanks now were hardly some grand glorious gesture, but given where Orm had started, it meant something to Elara. He might have once taken something like this for granted or assumed that it was her duty and simply expected of her. She had begun this journey feeling like the tides were calling her to do this, so she may have once said that thanks weren’t necessary but many things had changed between them since they had left Atlantis.

“You’re welcome,” was all she said and before she could think better of it, she took his hand.

Orm was getting obnoxiously fond of holding her hand. He remembered seeing Elara and Calysa coming to meet them, holding each other’s arms and being very affectionate and he’d certainly seen such friendly physical exchanges among his citizens when visiting the regions but that type of physical familiarity was never something he’d had access to after Atlanna died. 

Given all of her many gifts and deductions, Orm wasn’t sure if Elara knew that or not. Didn’t know if this was just her general way with people she was familiar with or if she was actively trying to compensate for his touch-starved youth. And while he wanted to believe he was special, he wasn’t sure how much it mattered in this exact moment. She was holding his hand because she wanted to, and because he’d reached out to her and it felt nice.

They didn’t speak again for awhile and eventually she let his hand go with a tight squeeze before getting into her pack for snack bars. The rest of the day was more of the same. There were a few bathroom stops and a constant shuffle of passengers boarding and departing. Sometimes there would be other passengers all around them and paranoid as Orm was he didn’t feel like chatting much then, just in case. Elara mostly respected this but sometimes engaged him in small talk about the food they ate or the areas they passed through. He didn’t feel like she was trying to placate him or appease him, but more felt like she was chatting for her own peace of mind and he did his best to help but obviously had little experience in the subject matter.

It was a baffling day but not as frustrating as it could have been if Orm had been left to navigate it alone. Confident and stubborn as he might have been, he had nothing on Elara’s unflappable calm. No matter how loud the bus got or unintelligible the bus driver, she kept her cool and guided them through. Hours passed in this almost mindless chatter. Elara encouraged him to try to get some more sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He may not actively dislike and distrust everyone on this bus as he once had, but it was still too foreign an environment for him to get easy.

Elara, to her credit, tried to stay awake out of solidarity but she just didn’t have the same vigor she usually did. Her injury was healing well. She’d made a point to check on it before they left this morning and once at one of the bathroom stops. It would heal within a few days but it still took a lot of energy in the meantime. As there wasn’t anything pressing to distract her or keep her alert, she kept nodding off, lulled by the easy cadence of their fellow passengers and the feel of the bus rolling along down the highway.

Once she woke up abruptly when a bump in the road caused her forehead to collide with the window. Orm, who had been occupying himself counting and memorizing the other people on the bus, started at Elara’s gasp when she was woken. His warrior instincts immediately put him on edge and on the lookout for the cause. She immediately inspected the point of contact with one hand while holding the other out to him as if to give him the all clear.

“It’s fine, just a bump,” she said and instinctively tilted her head to show that no serious harm had been done.

He appeared to study it for a minute as if to make sure she wasn’t hiding any lacerations. Finally, he nodded as if agreeing with her assessment but then frowned minutely, saying almost under his breath, “this is hardly the smoothest form of transportation. It’s awfully clumsy.”

“Well it beats trekking through the jungle for days on our own.” Elara replied with her usual measure of snark and common sense as well as a signature smirk, “I know that we could handle ourselves but that would have been miserable. Just think of the mosquitoes.” 

Not having much experience with the flying pests and still thinking of the realization he’d come to earlier that day, Orm wasn’t sure spending days alone with her in the jungle would be particularly miserable after all. However, he also knew she had a point and with mostly unknown adversaries out there, that would not be the wisest course of action.

“Perhaps,” was all he said in reply. He could accept these things in the name of practicality all day long, and he had, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel comfortable up here.

While passengers had left and boarded their bus for hours and no one had attacked them or even properly interacted with him or Elara besides the bus driver, he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness and unease. Like they were too exposed. And while Elara was the one thing that was keeping him from complete uneasiness or from complaining about this clumsy earth vehicle spewing noxious fumes, it didn’t mean that he was able to feel comfortable up here.

Even Elara’s ability to balance and calm him instinctively was foreign to him. While Elara was the most familiar thing to him for hundreds of miles, he hadn’t been aware of how much he’d come to count on and trust her until surrounded by others. He still didn’t know what to make of how he was coming to regard her- it was still so strange and new to him.

Elara, of course, being as experienced as she was in interpersonal relationships and friendships might know better how to word or contextualize how he was feeling but he didn’t even know how he could put it into words to ask. And, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if she felt any of these confusing sensations that he did. What if she simply had grown to regard him as a friend? While that wouldn’t be the worst fate he could suffer at her hands, he could feel something unlike friendship growing in him. He hadn’t had much experience with friendship to be sure but this was just unlike anything he’d ever known. Worse still, what if she still saw all this as duty? What if she was simply doing all this to fulfill the call of the tides?

She had been the one to kiss him that drunken night but she’d also been the one to leave and shut herself off from him after that. He thought it might have been repulsion at his admission but maybe it was her own way of prioritizing duty? Her way of saying that fun or feelings would always come last. He didn’t know where that left him if that was true. So while Orm had no activity to occupy him physically on their long bus ride, he certainly had much to think of.

Elara, for her part, slept for most of it. When she woke up at the stop where they’d be changing busses she was surprised to find that she had not fallen asleep against the window but with her head leaning on Orm. He was just the right height for her head to rest against his broad shoulder comfortably. As the bus fully stopped and other passengers started getting up, she almost sheepishly lifted her head off of his shoulder. She didn’t know why it struck her so odd, maybe in their tight quarters, Orm didn’t notice? Highly unlikely, but perhaps he was still offended at the crudeness of their transport and bore it to prevent her from further injury? It wasn’t the most plausible explanation but it was all Elara could figure as they gathered their things and disembarked the bus for the final time.

Elara gingerly stretched out. If she felt cramped after hours of being in those tight seats, she couldn’t imagine how Orm felt with his much longer frame. If they’d been alone or back at the cabin she’d expect him to work through some of those fighting forms he’d been so fond of but he instead he opted for more subtle stretches. After they’d both taken advantage of a bathroom and regained feeling in their limbs, she could feel him scanning the area. He hadn't been fond of the bus but after eight something hours it was at least more familiar than this little town in the middle of Guatemala.

Elara could understand that and did her best to feel through the tides for any threat, only to be surprised at a familiar thread.

“When is our next bus set to arrive?” Orm asked, looking around dubiously.

“Actually,” Elara said, feeling more confidence in her reading, taking gradual steps forward as she mentally tugged on the tide, “we aren’t taking a bus to the sanctuary.”

“We aren’t?” he asked, confusion and alarm coming off of him.

“No,” she replied as she reached the other end of the pull and pointed to the off-roads Jeep at the far end of the street.

An older woman with long gray hair pulled back under a sun hat sat in the driver’s seat. Her eyes were fixed squarely on the two of them with an almost wicked smile on her face, clear to see even from where they stood.

“Is that...” Orm began but of course it was. Who else could have seen when and where their bus would stop?

“Yep,” Elara answered with admiration and fondness in her voice, “that’s Madren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the unofficial subtitle of this chapter is the One Where Orm Realizes He’s Catching Feelings for Elara. Bless. Gosh was this delicious to write.  
> I also spent a lot of writing this chapter going is it too soon for this? and then just going, it’s chapter 16, i’m going for it. And as long as it took me to write this chapter I enjoyed getting to delve more into Orm’s perspective on their situation.  
> And lord help me i’m sorry if anyone wanted him to get more testy on the bus but i was feeling self conscious of how much time i spend with these two in transit so i was trying to speed it up a touch and get to Madren already, so i hope you’ll forgive me for that. Orm hasn’t completely put aside his issues. He is not domesticated, he’s just trying for practicality here.  
> And like i can already tell Madren is going to be a firecracker. Bless that crazy lady she was not supposed to show up there but there she was! So get ready y’all. I love me a wacky old lady tidewatcher. What did y'all think of Madren and Orvax's past or Orm's growing feelings?  
> alright, y'all know the drill if any of you guys are still around reading this, a comment would be wonderful. thanks!


End file.
